"Revenge?" he queried blandly. "For what?"
"You hate the Earl of Stour," she retorted.
Once more his well-shaped hand went up, as if in gentle protest, and he uttered a kind and deprecating "Oh!"
"You look upon the Earl of Stour as your enemy!" she insisted.
"I have so many, your Ladyship," he riposted with a smile.
"'Twas you who obtained his Pardon from my Lady Castlemaine."
"The inference is scarcely logical," he retorted. "A man does not as a rule sue for pardon for his Enemy."
"I think," she rejoined slowly, "that in this case Mr. Betterton did the illogical thing."
"Then I do entreat your Ladyship," he protested with mock terror, "not to repeat this calumny. I, accused of a noble action! Tom Betterton pardoning his Enemies! Why, my friends might believe it, and it is so difficult these days to live down a good Reputation."
"You choose to sharpen your wit at my expense, Sir Actor," the lady rejoined with her former haughtiness, "and to evade the point."