“These are jolly good, aren’t they?” he went on, still too nervous to begin a real conversation.
“They’re all right,” she said, and again her eyes strayed to the blond man across the room.
This won’t do at all, George thought. Why does she keep looking at that horror over the way? She couldn’t he interested in that type, surely? Why, anyone with half an eye could see he was a cissy. Perhaps she was just bored. Anyway, he couldn’t let her attention wander like this.
“I’ve been worrying about you,” he said leaning towards her. “Did you get into trouble for staying out all night?”
“Trouble?” Her eyebrows went up. “You talk as if I’m a child. I can stay out all night if I want to.”
Baffled, George sipped his martini. Not quite the same idea that Sydney had conveyed. He glanced at her thoughtfully.
“From what Sydney said…”
“Oh, don’t listen to him. He’s always bragging about how he treats me. I go my way, and he goes his.”
George was sure she was lying, but there was no point in telling her so.
“Well, I worried because I wondered if I should have kept ’phoning. I didn’t want to get you into trouble.”