New Hampshire." He looked at her dreamily, as if making an intense effort to detach himself from his dream, and situate her in the fading past. "Remember the bungalow? And Nick—ah, how's Nick?" he brought out triumphantly.
"Oh, yes—darling Nick?" Mrs. Melrose chimed in; and Susy, her head erect, her cheeks aflame, declared with resonance: "Most awfully well—splendidly!"
"He's not here, though?" from Fulmer.
"No. He's off travelling—cruising."
Mrs. Melrose's attention was faintly roused. "With anybody interesting?"
"No; you wouldn't know them. People we met. . . ." She did not have to continue, for her hostess's gaze had again strayed.
"And you've come for your clothes, I suppose, darling? Don't listen to people who say that skirts are to be wider. I've discovered a new woman—a Genius—and she absolutely swathes you. . . . Her name's my secret; but we'll go to her together."
Susy rose from her engulphing armchair. "Do you mind if I go up to my room? I'm rather tired—coming straight through."
"Of course, dear. I think there are some people coming to dinner . . . Mrs. Match will tell you. She has such a memory . . . Fulmer, where on earth are those cartoons of the music-room?"
Their voices pursued Susy upstairs, as, in Mrs.
