Adela clasped her hands, and her eyes sparkled. Tom scrutinised Willie Ruston with attentive eyes.
"Yes; to-day—in an hour; boat goes at 11:30. I've had a letter from old Carlin. Things aren't going well. That ass Detch——By Jove, though, I forgot you, Loring! I don't want to give you materials for another of those articles."
His rapidity, his bustle, his good humour were all amazing.
Tom glanced in bewilderment at Adela. Adela coloured deeply. She felt that she had no adequate reason to give for having summoned Tom Loring to Dieppe, unless (she brightened as the thought struck her) Tom had frightened Ruston away.
Willie seized Semingham's arm, and began to walk him (the activity seemed all on Willie's part) quickly up and down the garden. He held Carlin's letter in his hand, and he talked eagerly and fast, beating the letter with his fist now and again. Bessie Semingham sat down with an amiable smile. Adela and Tom were close together. Adela lifted her eyes to Tom's in question.
"What?" he asked.
"Do you think it's true?" she whispered.
"He's the finest actor alive if it isn't," said Tom, watching the beats of Ruston's fist.
"Then thank heaven! But I feel so foolish."
"Hush! here they come," said Tom.