"Well, when this new thing is once out we'll fix it up, eh? I shall see Lady Chetwode to-morrow—at your party."
"Oh, are you coming?"
"Oh, yes I'm going. Every one's going."
At this moment they heard outside the house a tremendous uproar, the snorting, panting, puffing, and agonised throbbing that could only proceed from a motor in distress.
"Who's that?" said Woodville, going to look out of the window.
Mervyn closed his eyes and leant back in his chair.
"It's nothing," he said. "It's Bertie—Bertie Wilton, you know."
"Oh! Good. Bertie's always exhilarating."