What a fuss and flurry the man made! There was the great, booming voice, and the inevitable opening and slamming of doors. Here he was, now. Adelaide Porteous closed the long dark lashes of her eyes while her husband pecked her cheek. He had all but thrown himself into the elegant drawing-room in his anxiety to show that he had finally returned to the bosom of his family. ‘Adelaide, my dear! As always, I am late. I promised you that I’d be here for tea, but I see that you’ve already had it. Surely it’s only half past three?’ ‘It’s twenty past four, Sir William. The Assam tea was delicious. So were the sandwiches, and the rich fruit cake. And before you ask the inevitable question, yes, the girls have long gone, together with their husbands. Rupert sends you his regards. John Bruce didn’t say anything. Baby, as you may have noticed, has returned from Paris. She arrived just an hour ago.’ A young lady in grey, clearly her mother’s daughter, rose from a settee, and kissed Sir William on the cheek.
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