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Because she's not so
very fit, really do you think? Bit moody, I'd say."
"But good lord, Harriet, we've got to get out of here anyway, in
October. And that means we've got to have some sort of place to get
into. It is an awkward time, I'll admit."
"No, you haven't," she said. "You can stay right here another six
months, if you like. I've heard from Florence. I met her in Paris in
April, and found she wasn't a bit keen to come back and take this house
on. Their securities have gone down again, and they're feeling hard-up.
Florence has got an old barn of an _atelier_, and she's puttering around
in the mud thinking she's making statuary. Well, when I found how things
stood here, I wrote and asked her if she'd lease for six months more if
she got the chance, and she wrote back and simply grabbed at it. All
you've got to do is to send her a five-word cable and you're fixed.
Then, next spring, when your troubles are over, and you know what you
want, you can look out a place up the shore and have the summer there.


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