Wasn't it
good-natured of me, when I was really longing to stay?"
Leo Ulford stretched out his long legs slowly, his type's way of purring.
"I'd rather have gone on yarning with you."
"Then you did have a talk! She was at my house to-night, looking quite
delicious. You know she's conquered London?"
"That sort's up to every move on the board."
"What do you mean? What board?"
She looked at him with innocent inquiry.
"I wish men didn't know so much," she added; with a sort of soft
vexation. "You have so many opportunities of acquiring knowledge and we
so few--if we respect the /convenances/."
"Miss Schley wouldn't respect 'em."
He chuckled, and again drew up and then stretched out his legs, slowly
and luxuriously.
"How can you know?"
"She's not the sort that does. She's the sort that's always kicking over
the traces and keeping it dark. I know 'em."
"I think you're rather unkind. Miss Schley's mother arrives to-morrow."
Leo Ulford put up his hands to his baby moustache and shook with
laughter.
"That's the only thing she wanted to set her up in business," he
ejaculated. "A marmar. I do love those Americans!"
"But you speak as if Mrs. Schley were a stage property!"
"I'll bet she is. Wait till you see her. Why, it's a regular profession
in the States, being a marmar. I tell you what--"
He leaned forward and fixed his blue eyes on Lady Holme, with an air of
profound acuteness.
Pages:
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139