‘Too tired to.... Oh, very well, mother.’
Mrs Lawford opened the door, and called after her, ‘Is Jimmie gone?’
‘Oh, yes, hours.’
‘Where did you meet?’
‘I couldn’t get a carriage at the station. He carried my dressing-bag; I begged him not to. The other’s coming on. You know what Jimmie is. How very, very lucky I did come home. I don’t know what made me; just an impulse; they did laugh at me so. Father dear—do speak to me; how are you now?’
Lawford opened his mouth, gulped, and shook his head.
‘Ssh, dear!’ whispered Sheila, ‘I think he has fallen asleep. I will be down in a minute.’ Mrs Lawford was about to close the door when Ada appeared.
‘If you please, ma’am,’ she said, ‘I have been waiting, as you told me, to let Dr Ferguson out, but it’s nearly seven now; and the table’s not laid yet.’
‘I really should have thought, Ada,’ Sheila began, then caught back the angry words, and turned and looked over her shoulder into the room. ‘Do you think you will need anything more, Dr Ferguson?’ she asked in a sepulchral voice.
Again Lawford’s lips moved; again he shook his head.