Confessions of a Well-Meaning Woman
For two guineas I give you certainty and a private car. In two years no one who can afford to dine at Claridge’s or go to the stalls will dream of going any other way. Whether it pays you can judge from the progress I’ve made in less than a year.”
Like all enthusiasts on their own hobby, he deluged me with figures until my poor head reeled. I did not complain, however, because I felt that so long as he was doing sensible hard work he would be unlikely to return and disturb our peace of mind. Apart from the one formal question he had not mentioned Phyllida; and I was strengthened in the belief which I had always held that it was a momentary infatuation and that he proved he had overcome it when he declined to communicate with her.
I hope I did nothing to suggest that one can have too much even of percentages and running expenses and allowances for depreciation and the like, but he jumped up suddenly and said:
“Well, I mustn’t keep you and I mustn’t be late for my next job. I hope your brother and Lady Brackenbury are all right? I see Culroyd is married.”
“They are all very well,” I said, as I walked with him to the door.
“If I may ask a favour, Lady Ann,
170
