"Bravo! Sing us something else, Nell!" said Lady Wolfer.
Nell was in the middle of the second song when the men filed in. Some of them came straight into the room and sought the women they wanted, others hung about the doors, and, hiding their yawns, glanced quite openly at their watches.
The earl made his way to his wife where she was sitting by the fire, her eyes fixed on the flames, which she could just see over the top of her hand screen.
"I have to go on to the Meridues' when these have gone," he said. "Are you coming, Ada?"
She glanced up at him. His eyes were fixed on the bosom of her dress, on the spot where the white blossom had shone conspicuously, but shone no longer; and there was a wistful, yearning expression on his grave face.
She did not raise her eyes.
"I don't know. I may be tired. Perhaps I may follow you."
He bowed, almost as he would have bowed to a stranger; then, as he was turning away, he said casually, but with a faint tremor in his voice:
"You have lost your flower!"
She raised her eyes and looked at him coldly.