“Sounds rather a peremptory sort of a chap!” observed Colonel Wenman.
“I,” remarked Lady Norah, “shouldn’t so much as answer him, Helena.”
“I shall certainly answer him and tell him that he’ll trespass on my property at his peril,” said the Marchesa haughtily. “Isn’t that the right way to put it, Mr Stillford?”
“If it would be a trespass, that might be one way to put it,” was Stillford’s professionally cautious advice. “But as I ventured to tell you when you determined to put on the padlock, the rights in the matter are not quite as clear as we could wish.”
“When I bought this place, I bought a private estate—a private estate, Mr Stillford—for myself—not a short cut for Lord Lynborough! Am I to put up a notice for him, ‘This Way to the Bathing Machines’?”
“I wouldn’t stand it for a moment.” Captain Irons sounded bellicose.
Violet Dufaure was amicably inclined.
“You might give him leave to walk through. It would be a bore for him to go round by the road every time.”
“Certainly I might give him leave if he asked for it,” retorted the Marchesa rather sharply. “But he doesn’t. He orders me to open my gate—and tells me he means to bathe! As if I cared whether he bathed or not! What is it to me, I ask you, Violet, whether the man bathes or not?”
“I beg your pardon, Marchesa, but aren’t you getting a little off the point?” Stillford intervened deferentially.