"Darcy? No, I don't think so."
"Why, he's the chap whose wife chaperoned your little dinner that night at the Hyde Park Club, when Lady Rainsford failed you."
"No, I don't know him. Do you?"
"I—oh, very slightly—I assure you—never exchanged more than half a dozen words with him in my life."
"I thought you seemed pretty well acquainted at Lady Rainsford's tea."
"I"—faltered the young man—"I think you're mistaken."
Stanley smiled quietly, as the nature of the conversation he had overheard came back to his mind—he was getting on.
"I'm afraid," he remarked, "that your friend doesn't attract me. What did you wish to say about him?"
"Only that he's awfully gone on Belle Fitzgerald, means business, and all that—lucky dog—I think he'll win hands down," and Lieutenant Kingsland heaved a sigh.
"But he's married, surely?"