“I presume, Sir Percy, that you did my colleague and myself the honour of listening to our conversation?”
“An you desired to talk secrets, Monsieur... er... Chaubertin... you should have shut this window... and closed this avenue of trees against the chance passer-by.”
“What we said was no secret, Sir Percy. It is all over the town to-night.”
“Quite so... you were only telling the devil your mind... eh?”
“I had also been having conversation with Lady Blakeney.... Pray did you hear any of that, sir?”
But Sir Percy had evidently not heard the question, for he seemed quite absorbed in the task of removing a speck of dust from his immaculate chapeau-bras.
“These hats are all the rage in England just now,” he said airily, “but they have had their day, do you not think so, Monsieur? When I return to town, I shall have to devote my whole mind to the invention of a new headgear...”
“When will you return to England, Sir Percy?” queried Chauvelin with good-natured sarcasm.
“At the turn of the tide to-morrow eve, Monsieur,” replied Blakeney.
“In company with Lady Blakeney?”