How did you get your luggage out of the house? Wasn’t it—wasn’t it rather in some respects—rather a lark? It’s one of my regrets for my lost youth. Jim is up to the neck in Mahatmas and Theosophy and Higher Thought and rot—writes letters worse than Alice. I would even have taken a place as waitress in a tea shop. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. It isn't your duty. ‘Laisse-moi!’ Impatience swamped him. Things haven't gone quite as smoothly as I anticipated; but they might have been worse.
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