All through dinner, while Gleave tottered about, they sat facing each other at the long table, conducting,--that's the only word to describe it,--a polite conversation.

Neither of them took any notice of me or even once looked my way.

Even Gleave put things in front of me as though he didn't see me, and when I caught the watery eyes of the old dogs, they both seemed to make faces and go 'Yah!'" "It was weird, and would have been frightfully funny if I hadn't known that sooner or later I should have to stand up and take my dose.

Phew, it was a ghastly meal.

I'm certain I shall dream it all over again every time I eat something that doesn't agree with me! It was a great relief when at last Grandmother turned at the door and looking at my feet as though they were curiosities, said: 'Joan, you will follow us to the drawing-room.' Her voice was cold enough to freeze the sea." "Then she went out, her stick rapping the floor, Grandfather after her with his shoulders bent and a piece of bread on the back of his dinner jacket.