Then she'll come over at once, and you'll have to go to bed.' 'My dear Edith,' said Bruce, 'you're over-anxious; I shall do nothing of the kind.

There's no need that I should be laid up for this.

It's not serious.' He was beginning to believe in his own illness, as usual.
'Air! (I want to go round to the club)--tonic treatment!--that's the thing!--that's often the very best thing for a chill--this sort of chill....

Ah, that will do very nicely.

Very neatly written....
Good-bye, dear.' * * * * * As soon as Bruce had gone out Edith rang up the elder Mrs Ottley on the telephone, and relieved her anxiety in advance.