"If you take it that way," returned he, "I came only to say good-morning."
His coolness was unshaken, and he smiled as charmingly as ever.
"Tell me," he remarked, flinging his cigarette end into the grate and taking out his case again, "did you see the Kanes in Washington?"
He lighted a fresh cigarette, and for half an hour talked of casual matters, the people of their set in Washington, the new buildings there, the decorations, and the political scandals. His manner became almost deferential, and Mrs. Neligage as they chatted lost gradually all trace of the excitement which she had shown. At length the talk came round to their neighbors at home.
"I met Count Shimbowski at the club the other day," Langdon remarked, "and he alluded to the old days at Monte Carlo almost with sentiment. It is certainly amusing to see him passed round among respectable Boston houses."
"He is respectable enough according to his standards," she responded. "It is funny, though, to see how much afraid he is that Miss Wentstile should know about his past history."
"I suppose there's no doubt he's to marry Alice Endicott, is there?"
"There is Alice herself," Mrs. Neligage answered. "I should call her a pretty big doubt."
"At any rate," her companion observed, "Jack can't marry her. Miss Wentstile would never give them a penny."
"I have never heard Jack say that he wished to marry her," Mrs. Neligage responded coolly. "You are quite right about Miss Wentstile, though; she regards Jack as the blackest sheep imaginable."