"Oh, no! I'm sure I can't have forgotten it." She plunged about, her red face all creased with anxiety, her hat on one side, her hands searching everywhere, under the tablecloth, in the basket, amongst the knives and forks.
"Jim, you haven't dropped anything ?" "No, mum.

Beggin' your pardon, mum, the basket was closed, so to speak--closed it was." No, she knew that she had forgotten it.
"I'm so sorry, Mrs.Le Page, I'm afraid--" "My dear Mrs.Cole! What does it matter?
Not in the least, I assure you.
In this heat it's impossible to feel hungry, isn't it?
I assure you I don't feel as though I could touch a thing.

A little fruit, perhaps--an apple or a peach--" Fruit?
Why hadn't Mrs.Cole brought fruit?
She might so easily have done so, and she had never thought about it.

They themselves were rather tired of fruit, and so-- "I'm afraid we've no fruit, but an egg-sandwich--" "Eggs need salt, don't you think?
Not that it matters in the very least, but so that you shouldn't think me fussy.

Really, dear Mrs.Cole, I never felt less hungry in my life.