When the maid had gone he untied his white tie, loosened the stiff collar, then joined Margaret by the fire. He sank gratefully into a deep overstuffed chair, hooked a footstool nearer, and lifted both feet on to it. With a deep sigh: 'This is the life,' he said. 'You, me… no one else…' He lowered his chin and out of habit stroked the tip of his nose.

Margaret smiled faintly. 'We should try it more often, Jamie.'

'We will; we really will,' he said earnestly. Then, his tone changing, 'I've some news. We'll be going to Washington quite soon. I thought you'd like to know.'

Pouring from a Sheffield coffee service his wife looked up. 'It's rather sudden, isn't it?'

'Yes,' he answered. 'But some pretty important things have come up. I have to talk with the President.'

'Well,' Margaret said, 'fortunately I've a new dress.' She paused thoughtfully. 'Now I must buy some shoes and I'll need a matching bag; gloves too.' A worried look crossed her face. 'There'll be time, won't there?'

'Just about,' he said, then laughed at the incongruity.

Margaret said decisively, 'I'll go to Montreal for a day's shopping right after the holiday. You can always get so much more there than in Ottawa. By the way, how are we for money?'

He frowned, 'It isn't too good; we're overdrawn at the bank. We shall have to cash some more bonds, I expect.'

'Again?' Margaret seemed worried. 'We haven't many left.'

'No. But you go ahead.' He regarded his wife affectionately. 'One shopping trip won't make all that difference.'

'Well… if you're sure.'

'I'm sure.'

But the only thing he was really sure of, Howden thought, was that no one would sue the Prime Minister for slow payment. Shortage of money for their personal needs was a constant source of worry. The Howdens had no private means beyond modest savings from his time in law practice, and it was characteristic of Canada – a national small-mindedness persisting in many places – that the country paid its leaders meanly.