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'You provoke misbehaviour,' he said after he resumed his seat.

Hester moved over to the bedroom and pushed the door open; for Mrs. Harradson had apparently set it ajar in order to miss nothing of the ensuing dialogue.

'Mrs. Harradson,' she said in a voice of particular politeness. 'Thank you for reminding me about Mrs. Beddington. It was very kind of you. We shall not be wanting a kitten, thank you. Yes, a good cat is a nice thing to have. . . . Thank Mrs. Beddington very much for keeping the kitten for us. . . . I am so sorry it is now too large to drown. It is a great pity. But I am sure she will have no difficulty in disposing of a fine young cat. . . . A good mouser was she? Yes, that of course will count. Everyone wants a mouser.'

Hester pulled the door to. René, who was standing, looked up and said, 'I am in no mood to listen to any more idiotic conversations about cats. Unless you have anything you want to say to me, I shall now go to my study.'

Without taking any notice of these remarks, Hester walked with a dignified composure along the wall to the sitting-room door, turned the handle (and this is an action which, in such a case, is a trap for those not dignified by nature, for it is impossible to avoid slightly protruding the posterior—but which she accomplished with quiet mastery), entered the room beyond, closing the door behind her neither too gently nor too loudly. This act was entirely lost upon René who was collecting the one or two opened letters and other mail, which he thrust inside the newspapers; this done, he turned and passed out through the front door to his work-room across the landing.