"Sweet of you to say that Georgie" said she giving another twirl to the spit. (There had been a leg of mutton roasted on it last May-day while they all sat round in jerkins and stomachers and hose and all the perfumes of Arabia had hardly sufficed to quell the odour of roast meat which had pervaded the room for weeks afterwards.) "Sweet of you to say that but you mustn't think that I am deserting Riseholme. We should be in London perhaps (though as I say nothing is settled) for two or three months in the summer and always come here for weekends and perhaps from November till Christmas and a little while in the spring. And then Riseholme would always be coming up to us. Five spare bedrooms I believe and one of them quite a little suite with a bathroom and sitting-room attached. No dear Georgie I would never desert my dear Riseholme. If it was a choice between London and Riseholme I should not hesitate in my choice."