‘I’ve bad news for you, President!’ Joan Shirley walked into the big hall at Broadway End, where Cicely sat on the settle by the fire, awaiting her and gazing sombrely into the flames.
‘Oh?’ the President of the Hamlet Club looked up gloomily. ‘Well, I’ve some for you too, so we’ll be a jolly pair! But mine’s the same old thing, and I don’t want to go.’
‘You’re off to Ceylon again?’ Joan threw her fur cap and big coat on a chair, and came to sit on the rug at her friend’s feet. ‘Oh, I am sorry, President!’
‘So am I. I’d tons rather stay at home. It was all right the first time or two; but when it comes to every winter in Ceylon, I do get tired of it. Of course, I like to go with Daddy, and he does want me. But I’d like a Christmas at home sometimes!’
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