“Oh!” said Lettice. “I hope he isn’t. He won’t find anybody there.”
“He said you asked him.”
“I believe I did. Only that was Friday. And today’s Tuesday.”
“It’s Wednesday,” I said.
“Oh, how dreadful!” said Lettice. “That means that I’ve forgotten to go to lunch with some people for the third time.”
Fortunately it didn’t seem to worry her much.
“Is Griselda anywhere about?”
“I expect you’ll find her in the studio in the garden—sitting to Lawrence Redding.”
“There’s been quite a shemozzle about him,” said Lettice. “With father, you know. Father’s dreadful.”
“What was the she—whatever it was about?” I inquired.
“About his painting me. Father found out about it. Why shouldn’t I be painted in my bathing dress? If I go on a beach in it, why shouldn’t I be painted in it?”
Lettice paused and then went on.
“It’s really absurd—father forbidding a young man the house. Of course, Lawrence and I simply shriek about it. I shall come and be done here in your studio.”
“No, my dear,” I said. “Not if your father forbids it.”
“Oh! dear,” said Lettice, sighing. “How tiresome everyone is. I feel shattered. Definitely. If only I had some money I’d go away, but without