'Discreet,' she coquetted. 'People will talk.'
'Let them,' said Mr. Dunckley earnestly.
'Madame Carlotti, I think you know Mr. Dunckley—H. Stackton Dunckley—and you too, Mrs. Le Roy Jennings; you clever people ought to be friends at once.—And I want you to meet Mr. Pyford, the'——
'Hah d'ye do?'
'How are you?'
'Ro—splendid, thanks.'
'We were discussing,' said Lady Durwent—'discussing'——
'MR. AUSTIN SELWYN.'
Every one turned to see the guest of the evening, as the hostess rose to meet him. He was a young man on the right side of thirty, with dark, closely brushed hair that thinned slightly at the temples. He was clean-shaven, and his light-brown eyes lay in a smiling setting of quizzical good-humour. He was of rather more than medium height, with well-poised shoulders; and though a firmness of lips and jaw gave a suggestion of hardness, the engaging youthfulness of his eyes and a hearty smile that crinkled the bridge of his nose left a pleasant impression of frankness, mingled with a certain naïveté.
'Mr. Selwyn,' said Lady Durwent, 'I knew you would want to meet some of
London's—I should say some of England's—accomplished people.'