Bundercombe announced, drawing a letter
with pride from an article that I believe she called her reticule, "signed
by the secretary of the Women's League of Freedom, asking me to address
their members at a meeting to be held at Leeds to-night."
"Very gratifying!" I murmured.
"How the woman knew that I was in England," Mrs. Bundercombe continued,
carefully replacing the missive, "I cannot imagine; but I suppose these
things get about. In any case I felt it my duty to go. Some of us, Mr.
Walmsley," she added, regarding me with a severe air, "think of little
else save the various pleasures we are able to cram into our lives day by
day. Others are always ready to listen to the call of duty."
"I wish you a pleasant journey, Mrs. Bundercombe," I said, raising my hat.
"I suppose I shall find Eve in?"
"No doubt you will!" she snapped.
I glanced at the depressed young woman.
"I am taking a temporary secretary with me," Mrs. Bundercombe explained.
"Recent reports of my speeches in this country have been so unsatisfactory
that I have lost confidence in the Press. I am taking an experienced
shorthand-writer with me, who will furnish the various journals with a
verbatim report of what I say."
"Much more satisfactory, I am sure," I agreed, edging toward the house.
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