“One and elevenpence halfpenny!” murmured Chum absently. “I did hope I was worth two shillings, anyway.”
“And sma——”
“Ally, if you say smart too, I shall have Mr. Halton up for libel!” said Mrs. Lewin indignantly.
Ally laughed. “Gregory’s Powder didn’t say anything,” he remarked. “I don’t think you’ve made much impression there, in spite of your earnest efforts, you know, Chum.”
Mrs. Lewin looked down absently at the back of her hand, almost as if she expected to see something there; but her real answer came later, as she kissed her husband and said good-night.
“Ally,” she said slowly, turning back at the door, “do you mind? It’s so hot to-night! And you are restless, and have kept me awake lately!”
Alaric finished his whiskey and soda rather soberly. “Oh!” he said. “All right. I’ll sleep in the dressing-room——”
He heard Leoline enter her own room and turn the key in the lock, and he wondered in his stupid handsome head that she should so insist on privacy. Then he cheered up, had another whiskey, and supposed she had a headache. A man may distrust his mistress if she locks him out, and knows how to translate his own inclination to sleep in the dressing-room. But the tertium quid of his wife’s case is always a headache.
CHAPTER X
“Ce que femme veut, Dieu le veut.”—French Proverb.