"Mary has taken such a liking
to you. If you care to meet people, we can always whip up somebody of
interest."
She promised that she would. She always felt curiously at home with the
Greysons.
They were passing the long sweep of Chester Terrace. "I like this
neighbourhood with its early Victorian atmosphere," she said. "It always
makes me feel quiet and good. I don't know why."
"I like the houses, too," he said. "There's a character about them. You
don't often find such fine drawing-rooms in London."
"Don't forget your promise," he reminded her, when they parted. "I shall
tell Mary she may write to you."
She met Carleton by chance a day or two later, as she was entering the
office. "I want to see you," he said; and took her up with him into his
room.
"We must stir the people up about this food business," he said, plunging
at once into his subject. "Phillips is quite right. It overshadows
everything. We must make the country self-supporting. It can be done
and must. If a war were to be sprung upon us we could be starved out in
a month.
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