So don't be out of the way, Geoffrey." "What's the matter?
Somebody has been bungling as usual, I suppose," said Helena in her most confident and peremptory tone.
"The discharged men say that nobody pays any attention to them--and they mean to burn down something." "On the principle of the Chinaman, and 'roast pig,'" said French, stretching himself at full length on the grass, where Helena was already sitting.

"What an extraordinary state of mind we're all in! We all want to burn something.

I want to burn the doctors, because some of the medical boards have been beasts to some of my friends; the soldiers over at Dansworth want to burn the town, because they haven't been made enough of; the Triple Alliance want to burn up the country to cook their roast pig--and as for you, Helena--" He turned a laughing face upon her--but before she could reply, a telephone was heard ringing, through the open windows of the house.
"For me, I expect," exclaimed Helena, springing up.

She disappeared within the drawing-room, returning presently, with flushed cheeks, and a bearing of which Geoffrey French at once guessed the meaning.
"Donald has thrown her over ?" he said to himself.

"Of course Philip had the trump card!" Helena, however, said nothing.