“You know you only want Lovat, to talk your man’s stuff.”
“I’m not a man, I’m a kangaroo. Besides, yesterday I hadn’t seen you. If I had known, my dear Somers, that your wife, who is at this moment in her room hastily changing her dress, was such a beautiful person—I don’t say woman merely—I’d have invited you for her sake, and not for your own.”
“Then I wouldn’t have come,” said Somers.
“Hear them, what a haughty pair of individuals! I suppose you expect the king of beasts to go down on his knees to you, like the rest of democratic kings to their constituents. Won’t you get ready, Mrs Somers?”
“You are quite sure you want me to come?” said Harriet suspiciously.
“Why, if you won’t come, I shall ask Lovat—dear Lovat, by the happiest fluke in the world not Lovelace—to let me stay here to tea, dinner, or supper—that is, to the next meal, whatever name it may bear.”
At this Harriet disappeared to put on a proper dress.
“We will go as soon as you are ready,” called Kangaroo. “We can all squeeze into that automobile at your gate.”
When Harriet reappeared the men rose. Kangaroo looked at her with admiration.
“What a remarkably beautiful person you are,” he said. “But mind, I don’t say woman. Dio liberi!” He scuttled hurriedly to the door.