“Really, Vane, you’re very kind. We shan’t fight.”
“I don’t know about that. He’s simply mad.”
“Anything new?”
“Yes; he told me you’d been trying to square Mrs. Witt behind his back, and he meant to have it out with you.”
“Well,” said George, “I won’t run. Come along.”
The guests were already pouring in, and among the first George encountered was Mr. Dennis Espion, as over-strained as ever. Espion knew that George was aware of his position on the Bull’s-eye.
“Ah, how are you, Neston?” he said, holding out his hand.
George looked at it for a moment, and then took it.
“I support life and your kind attentions, Espion.”
“Ah! well, you know, we can’t help it—a matter of public interest. I hope you see our position——”