Pett about the
difference between picric acid and trinitrotoluene, than which a
pleasanter topic for the luncheon table could hardly be selected,
and the voice of Clarence Renshaw rose above all other competing
noises, as he spoke of the functions of the trochaic spondee.
There was nothing outwardly to distinguish this meal from any
other which she had shared of late in that house.
The only thing that prevented her relief being unmixed was the
fact that she could see Lord Wisbeach casting furtive glances at
Jimmy, who was eating with the quiet concentration of one who,
after days of boarding-house fare, finds himself in the presence
of the masterpieces of a chef. In the past few days Jimmy had
consumed too much hash to worry now about anything like a furtive
glance. He had perceived Lord Wisbeach's roving eye, and had no
doubt that at the conclusion of the meal he would find occasion
for a little chat. Meanwhile, however, his duty was towards his
tissues and their restoration. He helped himself liberally from a
dish which his father offered him.
He became aware that Mrs. Pett was addressing him.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Quite like old times," said Mrs. Pett genially. Her suspicions
had vanished completely since Lord Wisbeach's recognition of the
visitor, and remorse that she should have suspected him made her
unwontedly amiable. "Being with Skinner again," she explained.
"It must remind you of London.
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