"How do you do, Mrs. Talboys," she cut him short ruthlessly, "when are we to have another book?"
It was a very large dinner, and Brigit, placed between two men who dined out for reasons dietetic and economic, and did not talk, was free to pursue her own thoughts at leisure. She had wired Théo before leaving the de Lenskys', that she was leaving for home, and before starting for the dinner she had sent another wire, addressed simply "Joyselle," to say that she was dining out, but would come to Golden Square after dinner.
She knew that Joyselle, recognising her prompt appearance as an answer to his letter, would be at home late in the evening, no matter where he might have dined. "He has such strong family feelings," she reflected, with a menacing curve of her upper lip.
So deeply was she buried in her thoughts that she was amazed to find suddenly that the Duchess was trying to gather her flock's eye, preparatory to herding it upstairs. Both her hungry neighbours made spasmodic attempts to eradicate from her mind the memory of their fanatical devotion to the rites of the table, and she smiled absently at them, wondering what they would have thought if she had politely thanked them for their silence!
"My dear," said the Duchess, a few minutes later, sitting down in her favourite corner by the fire, "come and tell me about Pam."
"She is well, Duchess."
"Didn't she send me any messages?"
"She did. Much love and some kodaks of the children. Your god-child is a love."
"H'm. And how is the horrid little adopted one?"
"Poor Pammy!"