“Oh, Lipton’s and very strong! But Clifford, do you realise you are the Roman de la rose of Miss Bentley and lots like her?”

“I’m not flattered, even then.”

“They treasure up every one of your pictures in the illustrated papers, and probably pray for you every night. It’s rather wonderful.”

She went upstairs to change.

That evening he said to her:

“You do think, don’t you, that there is something eternal in marriage?”

She looked at him.

“But Clifford, you make eternity sound like a lid or a long, long chain that trailed after one, no matter how far one went.”