e was awfully sorry, old chap, to have to
tear himself away and all that, but the fact was he had an appointment
... an important appointment ... and of course a chap had to keep an
important appointment....

"We'll forgive you, Jimphy!" Lady Cecily said, and then he went away,
begging Henry to remember that they must go to the Empire together one
night.

"Well?" said Lady Cecily when her husband had gone, "how are you all
getting on?"

She was reclining on a couch, with her feet resting on a cushion, and as
she asked her question she pointed to another cushion lying on a chair.
He fetched it and put it behind her back.

"Splendidly," he answered. "Is that right?"

She settled herself more comfortably. "Yes, thanks," she said. "I read
your novel," she went on.

"Did you like it?"

"Oh, yes. Of course, I liked it. I suppose you're writing another book
now!" He nodded his head, and she went on. "I wish I could write books,
but of course I can't. Mr. Lensley says I live books. Isn't that nice of
him? Do you put real people in your books, or do you make them all up?
Do you know, I think I'll have another cigarette!"

He passed the box of cigarettes to her and held it while she made up her
mind whether she would smoke an Egyptian or a Turkish. Her delicate
fingers moved indecisively from the one brand to the other. "You like
Turkish, don't you?" he said, wishing that he could take her slender
hand in his and hold it forever.

"Choose one for me," she said, capriciously, lying back and clasping her
hands about her head.

He took a cigarette from the box and offered it to her, but she did not
hold out her hand to take it, and he understood that he was to place it
between her lips. His fingers trembled as he did so, and he turned
hurriedly to find the matches.

"Behind you," she said, and he turned and picked them up.

He lit a match and held it to her cigarette, and while he held it, her
fingers touched his. She had taken hold of the cigarette to remove it
from her lips.... He blew out the light and threw the match into the
ash-tray, and then went and sat down in the deep chair in which he had
been sitting when she asked him to get the cushion for her.

"Why didn't you call before?" she said, lazily blowing the smoke up into
the air.

It was difficult to say why he had not called before, so he answered
vaguely. There had been so much to do of late....

"And Gilbert? He doesn't rehearse all day long, does he