Howard smiled.
"You talk as if an affair of thousands of thousands, perhaps millions, were quite a bagatelle," he said. "My dear boy, don't you understand, realise, the importance of this business? It's nothing less than a railway from—"
Stafford nodded. "Oh, yes, you told me about it. It's a very big thing, I daresay, but what puzzles me is why the governor should care to worry about it. He has money enough—"
"No man has money enough," said Howard, solemnly. "But no matter. It is a waste of time to discuss philosophy with a man who has no mind above fox-hunting, fishing, pheasant-shooting, and dancing. By the way, how many times do you intend to dance with the Grecian goddess?"
"Meaning—" said Stafford.
"Miss Falconer, of course. Grecian goddesses are not so common, my dear
Stafford, as to permit of more than one in a house-party."
"I'm sure I don't know," replied Stafford, eyeing him with faint surprise. "What the devil made you ask me that?"
Howard eyed the handsome face with cynical amusement.
"Pardon, if I was impertinent; but I assure you the question is being asked amongst themselves by all the women in the house—"
Stafford stared at him and began to frown with perplexity rather than anger.