And you've been nibbling chocolates all the morning."
"I'll go and lie down, I think," said Miss Bunner. "I'll take a couple of aspirins and try and have a nice sleep."
"That would be a very good plan," said Miss Blacklog.
Miss Bunner departed upstairs.
"Shall I shut up the ducks for you, Aunt Letty?"
Miss Blacklog looked at Patrick severely.
"If you'll be sure to latch that door properly."
"I will. I swear I will."
"Have a glass of sherry, Aunt Letty," said Julia.
"As my old nurse used to say,
'It will settle your stomach.'
A revolting phrase - but curiously apposite at this moment."
"Well, I dare say it might be a good thing.
The truth is one isn't used to rich things. Oh, Bunny, how you made me jump.
What is it?"
"I can't find my aspirin," said Miss Bunner disconsolately.
"Well, take some of mine, dear, they're by my bed."
"There's a bottle on my dressing-table," said Phillipa.
"Thank you - thank you very much.
If I can't find mine - but I know I've got it somewhere.
A new bottle.
Now where could I have put it?"
"There's heaps in the bathroom," said Julia impatiently.
"This house is chock full of aspirin."
"It vexes me to be so careless and mislay things," replied Miss Bunner, retreating up the stairs again.
"Poor old Bunny," said Julia, holding up her glass.
"Do you think we ought to have given her some sherry?"
"Better not, I think," said Miss Blacklog.
"She had a lot of excitement today, and it isn't really good for her.
I'm afraid she'll be the worse for it tomorrow. Still, I really do think she has enjoyed herself!"
"She's loved it," said Phillipa.
"Let's give Mitzi a glass of sherry," suggested Julia.
"Hi, Pat," she called as she heard him entering the side door, "fetch Mitzi."
So Mitzi was brought in and Julia poured her out a glass of sherry.
"Here's to the best cook in the world," said Patrick.
Mitzi was gratified - but felt nevertheless that a protest was due.
"That is not so.
I am not really a cook.
In my country I do intellectual work."
"Then you're wasted," said Patrick.
"What's intellectual work compared to a chef d'oeuvre like Delicious Death?"
"Oo - I say to you I do not like -"
"Never mind what you like, my girl," said Patrick.
"That's my name for it and here's to it.
Let's all drink to Delicious Death and to hell with the aftereffects."
"Phillipa, my dear, I want to talk to you."
"Yes, Miss Blacklog?"
Phillipa Haymes looked up in slight surprise.
"You're not worrying about anything, are you?"
"Worrying?"