chair and burst out:
“What do you know about David and that Griffiths creature?”
“Elsie Griffiths? Why, nothing. What is there to know?”
“But you know all right which of the Griffiths girls it is, don’t you?” cried Ena with bitter triumph.
“My dear Ena, I simply don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh yes you do Phil, so you needn’t put on that damned smooth voice any longer. Everyone’s known about it, I expect, except me. That’s always the way, isn’t it? The wife hears last of all.” Ena began to laugh shrilly.
“Ena,” said Dr. Chalmers most impressively, “if you’re suggesting that there’s anything at all between David and Elsie Griffiths, I can assure you you’re absolutely mistaken.”
“Oh you can, can you? And how do you happen to known there isn’t, Phil?”
“I’m quite certain there isn’t.”
“Then you’re wrong, because there is. My God, when I think of all I’ve done for David… But if that little cat thinks she’s going to get him … Oh, really, Phil, it’s terribly funny, when one comes to think of it, isn’t it? Terribly funny!”
“Ena, you’re getting hysterical,” Dr. Chalmers said, with professional sharpness.
“I don’t care. Why shouldn’t I? I’ve had enough to make me. I’ve had a terrible evening, Phil. You must have seen how rude Ronald’s been to me all the time. And horrible men trying to make love to me.” She looked expectantly at Dr. Chalmers.
“Oh?” said that gentleman, warily.
“Yes. My God, Phil, why can’t men leave a woman alone? Really, you’re the only decent one of the lot. It’s simply disgusting.”
“Who’s been trying to make love to you, Ena?”
“Oh, everyone. They always do. I suppose there must be something about me… Good heavens, I wish there wasn’t. That horrible Mr. Williamson …”
“Oh, yes?” said Dr. Chalmers with great heartiness. “What did he do?”
“He tried to make me sit on his knee. In here. It was frightfully awkward. And Mr. Sheringham was worse. Really, Phil, I can’t think how Ronald could have invited him. He’s the most disgusting man I’ve ever met. I simply had to fight him, to get away.”
“You do have a tough time with the lads, don’t you, Ena?” said Dr. Chalmers.
“With all except you,” said Mrs. Stratton seriously. “You’ve never tried to make love to me, Phil. I wonder why you haven’t.”
This time Dr. Chalmers was a little more tactful. “David happens to be a friend of mine, Ena.”
“Yes,” agreed Mrs. Stratton mournfully. “You’re terribly fond of David, aren’t you, Phil?”
“He’s always been my best friend,” said Dr. Chalmers, with hearty lack of emotion.
“It must be wonderful, to be a man and be able to have a real friend,” regretted Mrs. Stratton.
“Yes, I expect it is.”
The conversation then paused, apparently for contemplation by Mrs. Stratton of her feminine handicap.
Then she leaned a little towards her companion. “I don’t think David would mind in the least, you know, Phil. Not now.”
“Mind what?”
“Your making love to me,” said Ena, in a small but hopeful voice.
Dr. Chalmers realised that he had already been labelled as suffering from a hopeless passion for his companion, which only masculine loyalty withheld him from voicing. He was in something of a difficulty. Ena was usually ready to pay attention to him, he knew; so far as she could respect anyone besides herself, she respected him. He had not yet given up all hope of persuading her to take no steps in the two matters in which her emotions were involved. But to do so, he must reduce her to softer mood. That Ronald had wanted to get rid of her, and had let her see it quite plainly, he was perfectly ready to believe; Ronald was not tactful. Ena’s amour-propre, that tender plant, had been badly damaged. He was being offered the chance of administering a little nourishment to it in the obvious and traditional way.
Dr.
“What do you know about David and that Griffiths creature?”
“Elsie Griffiths? Why, nothing. What is there to know?”
“But you know all right which of the Griffiths girls it is, don’t you?” cried Ena with bitter triumph.
“My dear Ena, I simply don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh yes you do Phil, so you needn’t put on that damned smooth voice any longer. Everyone’s known about it, I expect, except me. That’s always the way, isn’t it? The wife hears last of all.” Ena began to laugh shrilly.
“Ena,” said Dr. Chalmers most impressively, “if you’re suggesting that there’s anything at all between David and Elsie Griffiths, I can assure you you’re absolutely mistaken.”
“Oh you can, can you? And how do you happen to known there isn’t, Phil?”
“I’m quite certain there isn’t.”
“Then you’re wrong, because there is. My God, when I think of all I’ve done for David… But if that little cat thinks she’s going to get him … Oh, really, Phil, it’s terribly funny, when one comes to think of it, isn’t it? Terribly funny!”
“Ena, you’re getting hysterical,” Dr. Chalmers said, with professional sharpness.
“I don’t care. Why shouldn’t I? I’ve had enough to make me. I’ve had a terrible evening, Phil. You must have seen how rude Ronald’s been to me all the time. And horrible men trying to make love to me.” She looked expectantly at Dr. Chalmers.
“Oh?” said that gentleman, warily.
“Yes. My God, Phil, why can’t men leave a woman alone? Really, you’re the only decent one of the lot. It’s simply disgusting.”
“Who’s been trying to make love to you, Ena?”
“Oh, everyone. They always do. I suppose there must be something about me… Good heavens, I wish there wasn’t. That horrible Mr. Williamson …”
“Oh, yes?” said Dr. Chalmers with great heartiness. “What did he do?”
“He tried to make me sit on his knee. In here. It was frightfully awkward. And Mr. Sheringham was worse. Really, Phil, I can’t think how Ronald could have invited him. He’s the most disgusting man I’ve ever met. I simply had to fight him, to get away.”
“You do have a tough time with the lads, don’t you, Ena?” said Dr. Chalmers.
“With all except you,” said Mrs. Stratton seriously. “You’ve never tried to make love to me, Phil. I wonder why you haven’t.”
This time Dr. Chalmers was a little more tactful. “David happens to be a friend of mine, Ena.”
“Yes,” agreed Mrs. Stratton mournfully. “You’re terribly fond of David, aren’t you, Phil?”
“He’s always been my best friend,” said Dr. Chalmers, with hearty lack of emotion.
“It must be wonderful, to be a man and be able to have a real friend,” regretted Mrs. Stratton.
“Yes, I expect it is.”
The conversation then paused, apparently for contemplation by Mrs. Stratton of her feminine handicap.
Then she leaned a little towards her companion. “I don’t think David would mind in the least, you know, Phil. Not now.”
“Mind what?”
“Your making love to me,” said Ena, in a small but hopeful voice.
Dr. Chalmers realised that he had already been labelled as suffering from a hopeless passion for his companion, which only masculine loyalty withheld him from voicing. He was in something of a difficulty. Ena was usually ready to pay attention to him, he knew; so far as she could respect anyone besides herself, she respected him. He had not yet given up all hope of persuading her to take no steps in the two matters in which her emotions were involved. But to do so, he must reduce her to softer mood. That Ronald had wanted to get rid of her, and had let her see it quite plainly, he was perfectly ready to believe; Ronald was not tactful. Ena’s amour-propre, that tender plant, had been badly damaged. He was being offered the chance of administering a little nourishment to it in the obvious and traditional way.
Dr.
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