So he shuffled away, and glanced out of the window at the stir and
traffic of Trafalgar-road.

"Tea's ready," she said.

He went into the kitchen, smiling, enchanted, but disturbed. She had not
come to him and confessed that she could not make tea without
tea-leaves. Yet there was the teapot steaming and puffing on the table!




CHAPTER VIII

OMELETTE


The mystery lay on a plate in the middle of the table. In colour it
resembled scrambled eggs, except that it was tinted a more brownish, or
coppery, gold--rather like a first-class Yorkshire pudding. He suspected
for an instant that it might be a Yorkshire pudding according to the
new-fangled recipe of Board Schools. But four eggs! No! He was sure that
so small a quantity of Yorkshire pudding could not possibly have
required four eggs.

He picked up the teapot, after his manner, and was in the act of
pouring, when she struck him into immobility with a loud cry:

"Milk first!"