'She saw Madame Frabelle. I wasn't at home.'
'Ha ha! Good, very good!' Mr Mitchell turned to his other neighbour.
'Eh bien,' said Sir Tito, who was waiting his opportunity. 'Commence!'
At once Edith began murmuring in a low voice her story of herself and
Aylmer, and related today's conversation in Jermyn Street.
Sir Tito nodded his head occasionally. When he listened most intently, he appeared to be looking round the table at other people. He lifted a glass of champagne and bowed over it to Mrs Mitchell; then he put his hand to his lips and blew a kiss.
'Who's that for?' Edith asked, interrupting herself.
'C'est pour la vieille.'
'Madame Frabelle! Why do you kiss your hand to her?'
'To keep her quiet. Look at her: she's so impressed, and thinks it so wicked, that she's blushing and uncomfortable. I've a splendid way, Edith (pardon), of silencing all these elderly ladies who make love to me. I don't say "Ferme!" I'm polite to them.'
Edith laughed. Sir Tito was not offended.