As a matter of fact, she did nothing of the kind. The others prevailed upon her to take a cup of coffee. Then the dessert was recalled, and, forgetting herself in an animated discussion with Jadwin as to the name of their steam yacht, she ate two plates of wine jelly before she was aware. She expressed a doubt as to whether a little salad would do her good, and after a vehement exhortation from Jadwin, allowed herself to be persuaded into accepting a sufficiently generous amount.

“I think a classical name would be best for the boat,” she declared. “Something like Arethusa or The Nereid .”

They rose from the table and passed into the library. The evening was sultry, threatening a rainstorm, and they preferred not to sit on the stoop. Jadwin lit a cigar; he still wore his business clothes⁠—the inevitable cutaway, white waistcoat, and grey trousers of the middle-aged man of affairs.