Mrs Welkin blushed angrily and forgot herself.
"You're not very polite, young lady," she said, "and if it's a question of suitability, where's the suitability in Mr Peters playing Santa Claus when it was promised to Kenneth?"
The mixture of muddled logic and resentment startled everyone. Mike and Sheila grew scarlet, Sir George looked helplessly at his wife, Kenneth Welkin turned savagely on his mother, and Edward Welkin settled rather than saved the situation.
"That'll do," he said in a voice of thunder. "That's all been fixed, Ada. I don't want to hear any more from either of you on the subject."
It was altogether a very awkward moment and the table broke up with relief. Sir George tugged Campion's arm.
"Cigar—library," he murmured and faded quietly away.
Campion followed him.
The
