Drake saw, for the first time, the very real ruthlessness of her mouth, and of the wrinkles round, mouth and eyes. "You, and in particular your friend Captain Drake, are going to regret. this for the rest of your lives."
And, drawing a pair of white gloves from her handbag, she marched slowly towards the outer room and the stairs.
There no longer appeared to be any comedy in this. Open war. All right!
Searching round for Jenny, Martin saw her signal. Along the long right-hand wall where stood exhibits overflowing from those at the back, Jenny looked out from between a high lacquered wardrobe and a row of gilt-and-satin chairs. He went to her, and they regarded each other in silence.
"I ought to be furious with you," Jenny said. "I ought to say I'd never speak to you again. Only…"
Again he saw the contrast between the placidness of her appearance and the extraordinary violence of her emotions. Ancient Willaby's was treated to the spectacle of a girl throwing her arms round a young man's neck, and the young man kissing her with such return violence as to endanger the equilibrium of the wardrobe.
But the spectators had returned intently to their bidding. Nobody saw them except an attendant of thirty-five years' service, who shook his head despondently.
"I do love you," said Jenny, detaching herself reluctantly. "But — however did you have the nerve to take that halberd or what-do-you-call-it, and…"
"I didn't," he admitted. "When your grandmother let out that yelp—"
"Darling, you shouldn't have done it." (This was perfunctory.)