"
Ada, who had been beating a loud tattoo with the fork which she still
held in her hand, sprang to her feet and struck the table with a force
which set the glasses jingling.
"Jasper!" she almost shouted. "You'll drive me mad! Why don't you speak
out and say what you mean? What's the matter with Adrien? What does he
want? Aren't there a hundred men who'd be glad enough to furnish a house
for me as I like? And can't I even eat what I choose without Adrien
Leroy's delicate nose being turned up in disapproval?"
"You can go to the deuce, if you like, my dear," declared Jasper with a
calm smile. "I merely warn you that you are on the way to finding
yourself in the street, if I may be allowed to speak out. Have another
cigarette, and spray some patchouli about the room. There are more geese
than one, as you say; and, after all, it is hard if you can't indulge in
onions in your own room at one o'clock in the morning."
Goaded almost to desperation by the sneering sarcasm of Vermont's words,
the woman threw down her fork, thereby smashing a champagne glass, and
thrust her angry, flushed countenance close to his.
"What's your game?" she hissed.
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