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CHAPTER VII

" Rather. It's one of my favourite things." Maureen looked round her and slowly took in the extent of the feast, prepared in her honour. And her cousins dined at half-past seven. " I say, that's for you, Denis, while I remember. It's only some toffee I made."
" How ripping of you. Toffee, hurrah. May I open it now ?" He tore the box open and spread it on the table. Harbord looked at the toffee and Spencer-Mace became interested. Maureen gazed a trifle wistfully at her handiwork. It was the third of three efforts, the first two having burnt.
" How very clever of you to make toffee," said SpencerMace. " I used to make cocoanut-ice at Endleigh. Can you do French omelettes ? "
" I don't think I've ever tried."
" It's perfectly simple. The great thing is not to beat up the eggs too much, and add just the tiniest drop of water, and shake the frying pan, and not cook them too long. You see a French omelette must be wet."
" It sounds very complicated."
" We all know Spencer-Mace's omelettes. They're like leather, Miss Roxburgh, only don't taste as good." SpencerMace glared at Ockley and looked across at Maureen. She had started on a lobster claw, which engaged her whole attention.
" jolly decent of you to bring us the toffee," said Harbord. " The food at Wren's is muck."
" From what I've seen, I think you're all frightfully spoilt. I've never had such a tea."
" We don't get much of this from m'tutor," said Denis. " Only bread and butter and tea. The rest we have to get ourselves."
" Yes, of course," said Maureen. She coughed violently. A piece of lobster had gone the wrong way.
" What do you think of the new fashions ?" said SpencerMace. " I think they're rather chic." Maureen had thought very little about them. The ebb and flow of the Speenmouth tide had a negligible effect on fashions. " I like short