"What, precisely, is her place?" Connie laughed.
"Well, she seems determined to push herself into the foreground. My idea is that what artists call middle distance is better suited to her colouring. Seriously, I resent her putting you up to appeal to me—over Anita's head. I'm not taking any!
"Please tell her, or write—or phone—or whatever you've arranged to do—that we're both sorry—say 'both,' please—that we don't feel justified in persuading you to add her to the list of guests this time, as Valley House will be full up."
"She will be hurt," objected Constance.
"I'm inclined to think she deserves to be hurt."
"Oh, well, if you've made up your mind! But—she's a charming woman, of course.... Still, I shouldn't wonder if there's something of the tigress in her, and she could give a nasty dig."
"Let her try!" said Knight.
In the morning Constance telephoned to the flat in Cadogan Gardens. She had not long to wait for an answer to her call.
The Countess was evidently expecting to hear from her early in the day.
"He wasn't in the right mood, I'm afraid, when I spoke to him," Connie temporized. "He seemed to resent your wish to—to—as he expressed it—'get at him over Anne's head.'"