"Don't wonder you stare, old boy," said she, with her gayest grin. "I know I look a Katydid in all this green—but Lewis is just dotty about my wearing green...."
Mrs. Horton had left the room. Loring looked at her, narrowing his lids.
"You little light-o'-love...." he said, in a low, level voice.
"Oh, tut-tut-tut!" said Belinda, with grieved reproof. "'Sich langwidge' for a tea-party!"
".... Little heartless wanton...." Loring continued, in the same voice. "Mercenary, too ... like all your kind.... Even he ... that fat louse! ... called you mercenary...."
"Really ... I shall have to put disinfectant in your tea instead of cream," mocked Belinda.
Then he pounced on her. He caught her by both wrists and jerked her to her feet before him, almost upsetting the tea-things.
"Answer me...." he said. "Has that brute kissed you?"
"Yes, dear," said Belinda, eyeing him calmly; but the garnet sparkles were in her eyes.
"You...!" He choked, controlled himself. "On the mouth?" he asked huskily.