“Shall I take these away?” I asked. “Don’t they make you angry?”
“I haven’t noticed.”
I saw he was ill, not to mind all Aunt Gerty’s horrid pink shape all over his papers! I sat down on the edge of the table and he didn’t even scold me.
“Where is Lucy—my wife?” he asked me presently.
“My Mother?” said I. “She’s gone to the theatre.”
“Is that usual?”
“Quite usual. She generally goes with Mr. Aix, but to-night Aunt Gerty has gone with them.”
I didn’t like to hear him call Mother and Mr. Aix them in that insulting bracketting way, so I said—
“Mother has stayed in all her life. She wanted a change.”