n a distantly
familiar writing was lying by his plate.

"_Now you MUST admit that my intelligence department is good_," he read
in slanting, irregular strokes which hinted at a recumbent position and
a writing-block balanced against the knees. "_You never told me your
address. I didn't know where to look for you in the telephone book, you
were utterly lost. Eric, will you believe me? I carried the telephone
into bed with me; I said, 'Trunks, please,' and Trunks Please said
'Honk!' (Why do they always say 'Honk'? I believe they're Masons, or
else they've always just woken up.) Well, I said 'Honk!' too, and asked
for your number in Ryder Street; and THEN I found out your address in
the country. Don't you think it was rather clever of me? And, dear Eric,
don't you think it was VERY sweet of me? I wanted to thank you for
something I expect you're quite unconscious of. (What a sentence to
throw at the head of a rising dramatist!) I mean your gentleness and
care for me yesterday. I always know I'm so safe with you, Eric._

"_I'm obeying you to the letter. We've got rather an amusing party here;
Gerry Deganway and Sally Farwell, my cousin Johnnie Carstairs (perhaps
ONE pinch too much Foreign Office), Bobbie Pentyre, who's on his last
leave before going out, his rather tiresome mother, the immaculate
George Oakleigh. . . ._" Her pen strayed into mischievous comments and
absurd stories about the house-party. "_But this bores you_," she broke
off abruptly. "_I felt all this week as if I'd been sharing everything
with you so extraordinarily. But no one shall say that I don't know when
I'm becoming tedious! What I wanted to tell you was this; and I was led
astray by this mob of people. I've washed my hands of them! I'm in
bed--bed at 7.15 POST MERIDIEM (is that right?) and I'm staying here.
I'm honestly resting. But--(a new sheet for this)--I've GOT to be in
London next week--Thursday--for a happy day with the dentist. I shall be
all alone, the house will be shut up and everything will be as
uncomfortable and depressing as it can be. Don't you think it's almost
a duty for you to come and dine? I'll have the dusting-sheets in my room
lifted up, and we'll crawl underneath them and eat hard-boiled eggs in
our fingers off the corner of the table. And I'll play to you; I might
even sing to you; in general terms I shall be very sweet to you and, if
you don't come, I shall know it's because you're afraid of falling in
love with me._"