“Is the door closed, Norman? Do you think they can hear us in the drawing-room? You really should be careful, sir.”
The duke laughed and shook his white head.
“I should not be afraid even if she could hear me,” he said. “Esmeralda is the only woman in the world incapable of vanity.”
“Do you always carry the end of her chain, Trafford?” said Lord Selvaine. “Angels have an awkward knack of flying; a woman without vanity must be an angel.”
Trafford started slightly.
“I think you deserve that, sir,” he said to his father, with a forced smile.
The duke laughed again unabashed.
“Even Selvaine can enunciate a truth in a jest,” he said. “She is an angel—in my eyes; as she must be in yours, Traff,” and he laid his hand approvingly on his son’s.
Norman sat listening in perfect silence; once he reached for the decanter, then paused and put it away. He had had quite enough wine, he remembered suddenly.