"I wonder what the deuce she's up to now," says he to himself, leaning against the wall behind him, and giving voice unconsciously to the thoughts within him.
"Eh?" says somebody at his ear.
He looks round hastily to find Miss Maliphant has come to anchor on his left, and that her eyes, too, are directed on Beauclerk, who with Lady Swansdown is standing at the lower end of the room.
"Eh, to you," says he brilliantly.
"I always rather fancied that Mr. Beauclerk and Lady Swansdown were antipathetic," says Miss Maliphant in her usual heavy, downright way.
"There was room for it," says Mr. Browne gloomily.
"For it?"
"Your fancy."
"Yes, so I think. Lady Swansdown has always seemed to me to be rather—raiher—eh?"
"Decidedly so," agrees Mr. Browne. "And as for Beauclerk, he is quite too dreadfully 'rather,' don't you think?"