He then dashed away to catch the chairman. Everyone felt uncomfortable for Mrs. Rivers, though this was really unnecessary, when luckily Mrs. Morland changed the subject by suddenly catching sight of one of her own books and being so overcome by the honour that she had to thank the Arbuthnots almost with tears in her eyes.
“For somehow,” she explained, “one doesn’t think of books one earns one’s living by as real books. When Tony was in Burma a friend of mine in the Red Cross used to send him a lot of books which he adored, but they were what I call real books. I mean by people whose names one knows,” said Mrs. Morland, who was totally unable to realize that her own name was almost famous, “who can write dull books that one feels one ought to read. I don’t suppose you met Tony, my younges
