"Will you take pity on me, Patricia? I'm at a loose end," cried Lady Tanagra.
Patricia turned with a little cry of pleasure.
"Jump in," cried Lady Tanagra. "It's no good refusing a Bowen. Our epidermises are too thick, or should it be epidermi?"
Patricia shook her head and laughed as she seated herself beside Lady Tanagra.
The car crooned its way up Sloane Street and across into Knightsbridge, Lady Tanagra intent upon her driving.
"Is it indiscreet to ask where you are taking me?" enquired Patricia with elaborate humility.
Lady Tanagra laughed as she jammed on the brake to avoid running into the stern of a motor-omnibus.
"I feel like a pirate to-day. I want to run away with someone, or do something desperate. Have you ever felt like that?"
"A politician's secretary must not encourage such unrespectable instincts," she replied.
Lady Tanagra looked at her quickly, noting the flatness of her voice.
"A wise hen should never brood upon being a hen," she remarked oracularly.
Patricia laughed. "It is all very well for Dives to tell Lazarus that it is noble to withstand the pangs of hunger," she replied.
"Now let us go and get tea," said Lady Tanagra, as she turned the car into the road running between Kensington Gardens and Hyde Park.
