The lady who was calling said she would call
again around lunch time. She said you were to be sure to wait until she
called, sir."
"Oh, yes, certainly." Politely, "And now I think I'll get up, if you don't
mind?"
"Oh, no, sir," rather scandalizedly. "You are in need of nothing, sir?"
Oliver thinks of replying, "Oh, just bring me a little more sleep if you
have it in the house," but then thinks better of it.
"No, thanks."
"Very good, sir," and the automaton pussyfoots away.
Oliver still half asleep manages to rise and find slippers and a wrapper
and then pads over to an empty bathroom where he disports himself like a
whale. To his surprise he discovers himself whistling--true, the sunlight
has an excellent shine to it this morning and the air and the sky outside
seem blue and crisp with first fall--but even so.
"Nancy," he murmurs and frowns and finishes his bath rather gloomily--a
gloom which is in no wise diminished when he goes downstairs to find
everybody nearly through lunch and Ted and Elinor, as far away from each
other at the table as possible, quite sure that they are behaving exactly
as usual while the remnants of the house-party do their best to seem
tactfully unconcerned.
Pages:
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284