“It’s all right, Aunt Dahlia. I know just how you’re feeling. A bit
on the hollow side, what? But the agony will pass. If I were you, I’d
sneak down and raid the larder after the household have gone to bed.
I am told there’s a pretty good steak-and-kidney pie there which will
repay inspection. Have faith, Aunt Dahlia,” I urged. “Pretty soon Uncle
Tom will be along, full of sympathy and anxious inquiries.”
“Will he? Do you know where he is now?”
“I haven’t seen him.”
“He is in the study with his face buried in his hands, muttering about
civilization and melting pots.”
“Eh? Why?”
“Because it has just been my painful duty to inform him that Anatole
has given notice.”