White gets his lunch."
"Considering," Sarah rejoined with dignity, "that there are seventeen
other clerks, besides office boys and typists, and Jimmy has a room to
himself, that doesn't seem likely. I expect he's doing a big deal for
somebody or other."
"Thank God it isn't me!" her aunt declared. "I love Jimmy--every one
does--but he wasn't born for business."
"We shall see," Sarah observed. "My own opinion of Jimmy is that his
mental gifts are generally underrated."
"You're not prejudiced, by any chance, are you?" Kendrick asked,
smiling.
"That is my dispassionate opinion," Sarah pronounced, "and I don't want
any peevish remarks from you, Roger Kendrick. You're jealous because you
let Mr. White get in ahead of you and secure Jimmy. It was only three
days ago that we agreed he should go into the City. He was perfectly
sweet about it, too. He was playing for the M.C.C. to-morrow, and polo at
Ranelagh on Saturday."
"Is he giving them both up?" Kendrick enquired.
"He's giving up the cricket, of course, unless he finds that it happens
to be a slack day in the City," Sarah replied. "As for the polo, well, no
one works on Saturday afternoon, do they?"
"How is my friend, Mr. Peter Phipps?" Lady Amesbury demanded. "The big
man who looked like a professional millionaire? Is he making a man of
that bad husband of yours, Josephine?"
"They spend a good deal of time together," Josephine replied.
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