"Everybody used to torture one with it a few years ago; somebody sang it at the Alhambra."
"Oh, yes, I went with—I went once and heard it."
The voice died down in a gentle grumble. The little puzzled frown with which Ora had listened also passed away.
"Going to Devonshire?" asked Ashley Mead.
"To Devonshire? No," said Ora decisively. "Why should I go away now?"
"You must go away from here."
"Must I, Ashley?"
"Yes, you must. Consider if Metcalfe Brown—"
"Oh, bother your Metcalfe Brown! There's always somebody like that!"
"Yes, generally. Come, I'll take you to your cab—"