"
He lit a cigarette that was almost as big as a cigar, and turned again to
Lady Holme.
"I've been in the Sahara gazelle shooting," he continued.
He spoke in a rather thick, lumbering voice and very loud, probably
because he was married to a deaf woman.
"Just come back," he added.
"Oh!" said Lady Holme.
She was sitting perfectly upright on her chair, and noticed that her
companion's eyes travelled calmly and critically over her figure with an
unveiled deliberation that was exceptionally brazen even in a modern
London man. Lady Holme did not mind it. Indeed, she rather liked it. She
knew at once, by that look, the type of man with whom she had to deal. In
Leo Ulford there was something of Lord Holme, as in Pimpernel Schley
there was perhaps a touch of herself. Having finished his stare, Leo
Ulford continued:
"Jolly out there. No rot. Do as you like and no one to bother you.
Gazelle are awfully shy beasts though."
"They must have suited you," said Lady Holme, very gravely.
"Why?" he asked, taking the glass of Kummel which the waiter had brought
and setting it down on a table by him.
"Aren't you a shy--er--beast?"
He stared at her calmly for a moment, and then said:
"I say, you're too sharp, Lady Holme."
He turned his head towards Pimpernel Schley, who was sitting a little way
off with her soft, white chin tucked well in, looking steadily down into
a cup half full of Turkish coffee and speaking to nobody.
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