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Patricia started and looked up with a sunny smile. Griffin nodded. "Tabby March, you know. The young woman who paints pussies. Used to go here three years ago, before she'd arrived. She was a wild one, I can tell you." "I hope Elinor tries for it," she said excitedly. "She'll say she's too green, I suppose.".
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"Lunch time!" repeated David, warmly. "I'm aiming to survive till at least five minutes after! Think of all the good things we're going to massacre. Where does Elinor want to go, Miss Pat? She didn't nominate it in her note!" "No. He picked it up in the bedroom." "My poor lads," said he, in a voice full of pathos. "First one and then the other--to lose them both in this awful fashion." "So it is a performance, after all?" said David, carelessly..
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