It was a curious luncheon party.

The host was abstracted, nervous, far from being his usual bland self.

The guest was subdued, silent, uneasy for no reason at all.

The hostess, usually an ever-springing well of comment and question, had decided upon quiet dignity as the most fitting expression of sensibilities ignored by the banging of doors.
"I think, Angus," she ventured once, "that you ought to remonstrate with Mr.McCandless in regard to 'If a man die.' An Easter Anthem is an Easter Anthem, but after five renderings it is hardly fair to expect the congregation to behave as if they had never heard it before." "Quite so," said the minister absently.
"Then may I tell him myself that it is your special request--" "Certainly not.

I wish you would not interfere, Annabel.