“But if they have no wine or——”
“It’s my impression,” said Mrs. Troup, “that certain queer kinds of whisky and gin——”
“But we were speaking of ‘our circle’—the kind of people we——”
“Yes, I know,” she said. “They carry these liquids about with them in the most exquisite flasks. Jeannette has one—a boy friend gave it to her—and it must have been made by a silversmith who is a real artist. It must have been fearfully expensive.”
Mr. Blake’s open mouth remained distended for a moment. “Your Jeannette!” he exclaimed. “Why, she’s only——”
“Oh, she’s nineteen,” his sister informed him soothingly.
“But was it exactly nice for her to receive such a gift from a young man?”
“Oh, he’s one of the nicest boys we know,” Mrs. Troup explained. “They swim together every day.”
“ ‘Swim together’?” her brother inquired feebly.
“Yes,” said Mrs. Troup. “His aunt has a tank.”