"All right. I promise," he said at last. "But you're worrying yourself
for nothing, mother."
She was quite content then, cheered at once, consulted the jewelled
watch on her dressing table and rang for the maid.
"Heavens, how late it is!" she exclaimed. "Run out now, dear. And,
Graham, tell Buckham to do up a dozen dinner-napkins in paper. Audrey
Valentine has telephoned that she has just got in, and finds she hasn't
enough. If that isn't like her!"