"You must please alter your date," said Elsie April. And she put her
right elbow on the table and leaned her chin on it, and thus somehow
established a domestic intimacy for the three amid all the blare and
notoriety of the vast tea-room.
"Oh, but I can't!" he said easily, familiarly. It was her occasional
"artichoke" manner that had justified him in assuming this tone. "I
can't!" he repeated. "I've told Sir John I can't possibly be ready any
earlier, and on the day after he'll almost certainly be on his way to
Marseilles. Besides, I don't _want_ to alter my date. My date is in
the papers by this time."
"You've already done quite enough harm to the Movement as it is," said
Elsie April, stoutly, but ravishingly.
"Me--harm to the Movement?"
"Haven't you stopped the building of our church?"
"Oh! So you know Mr. Wrissell?"
"Very well, indeed."
"Anybody else would have done the same in my place!" Edward Henry
defended himself. "Your cousin, Miss Euclid, would have done it, and
Marrier here was in the affair with her."
"Ah!" exclaimed Elsie April. "But we didn't belong to the Movement
then! We didn't know.... Come now, Mr. Machin. Sir John Pilgrim will
of course be a great draw. But even if you've got him and manage to
stick to him, we should beat you. You'll never get the audience you
want if you don't change from Wednesday week.
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