'Edith, I want you to look nice tonight, dear; what are you going to wear?'
'It ought to be. Would you like to know what I've done to it? I've cut the point into a square, and taken four yards out of the skirt; the chiffon off my wedding-dress has been made into kimono sleeves; then I'm going to wear my wedding-veil as a sort of scarf thrown carelessly over the shoulders; and I've turned the pointed waist-band round, so that it's quite right and short-waisted at the back now, and—'
'Oh, don't tell me the horrible details! I think you might take a little interest in me. I thought of wearing a buttonhole. Though you may have forgotten it now, before I was a dull old married man, I was supposed to dress rather well, Edith.'
'I thought I'd wear a white carnation.'
'I should wear two—one each side. It would be more striking.'
'That's right! Make fun of me! I hope you'll be ready in time. They dine at eight, you know.'
'Bruce, you're not going to begin to dress yet, are you? It's only just four.'
He pretended not to hear, and said peevishly—
'I suppose they don't expect us to ask them? I daresay it's well known we can't return all the hospitality we receive.'
'It's awful not having a valet,' said Bruce.
'But it would be more awful if we had,' said Edith. 'Where on earth could we put him—except in the bathroom?'
'I don't think you'll look you're best tonight,' he answered rather revengefully.
'Give me a chancel Wait till I've waved my hair!'
He read the paper for a little while, occasionally reading aloud portions of it that she had already read, then complained that she took no interest in public events.
'What do you think Archie brought home today,' she said to change the subject, 'in his Noah's Ark? Two snails!' She laughed.
'Revolting! I don't know where he gets his tastes from. Not from my family, that I'm quite sure.' He yawned ostentatiously.
'I think I shall have a rest,' Bruce said presently. 'I had a very bad night last night. I scarcely slept at all.'
'Poor boy!' Edith said kindly. She was accustomed to the convention of Bruce's insomnia, and it would never have occurred to her to appear surprised when he said he hadn't closed his eyes, though she happened to know there was no cause for anxiety. If he woke up ten minutes before he was called, he thought he had been awake all night; if he didn't he saw symptoms of the sleeping sickness.
She arranged cushions on the sofa and pulled the blinds down. A minute later he turned on the electric light and began to read again. Then he turned it out, pulled up the blinds, and called her back.
'I want to speak to you about my friend Raggett,' he said seriously.
'I've asked him to dinner here tomorrow. What shall we have?'
'Oh, Bruce! Let's wait and settle tomorrow.'
'You don't know Raggett, but I think you'll like him. I think you will. In any case, there's no doubt Raggett's been remarkably decent to me. In fact, he's a very good sort.'
'Why do you say fancy?' he asked irritably.
'I don't exactly know. I must say something. I'm sure he's nice if he's a friend of yours, dear.'
'He's a clever chap in his way. At least, when I say clever, I don't mean clever in the ordinary sense.'
'He's very amusing,' continued Bruce. 'He said a very funny thing to me the other day. Very funny indeed. It's no use repeating it, because unless you knew all the circumstances and the characters of the people that he told the story of, you wouldn't see the point. Perhaps, after all, I'd better ask him to dine at the club.'
'Oh no! Let him come here. Don't you think I'm worthy to see Raggett?'
'Oh nonsense, dear, I'm very proud of you,' said Bruce kindly. 'It isn't exactly that…. Mind you, Raggett's quite a man of the world—and yet he isn't a man of the world, if you know what I mean.'
'I can't decide whether to ask him here or not,' said Bruce, walking up and down the room in agitation.
'Well, suppose we leave it till tomorrow. You can make up your mind then,' she said good-naturedly.
Edith was dressed, when she found Bruce still in the throes of an agitated toilet. Having lost his collar-stud, he sat down and gave himself up to cold despair.
'You go without me,' he said in a resigned voice. 'Explain the reason—no, don't explain it. Say I've got influenza—but then perhaps they'll think you ought to look after me, and—'
In the cab he recovered suddenly, and told her she looked awfully pretty, which cheered her very much. She was feeling rather tired. She had spent several hours in the nursery that day, pretending to be a baby giraffe with so much success that Archie had insisted upon countless encores, until, like all artists who have to repeat the same part too often, she felt the performance was becoming mechanical.