“Remembering that tiara,” said Pardoner, “they’ll say I’m doting. I didn’t know they made such expensive things. But for my brain-wave about that dressing-case, I should have been left standing.”
In a shaking voice Sarah demanded luncheon.
“Not that I want to presume upon your hospitality, but we’ve many things to discuss,” she concluded coldly.
“On condition,” said Pardoner, “that you do not drink grenadine, I’ll do you a treat.”
“I don’t see why,” said Miss Vulliamy, “I should give up my staple drink.”
Virgil shuddered.
“I’ll try and explain some day. For one thing it’s bad for the heart.”
“It’s never affected mine,” said Sarah.
“No,” said Virgil, “I daresay it hasn’t. To be frank, I was thinking of my own. But never mind. Give it a miss till we’re married—a sort of interim injunction. We can argue it out later.”
“Very well,” said Sarah reluctantly.