"I have accused you of nothing, Phyllis."
"No"—in an agitated tone—"I wish you would. I might then know why you are looking so cross."
"Of course I am quite aware you can be supremely happy without me. There was no necessity for you to hint at it so broadly."
"And you cannot without me, I suppose? You appeared very comfortable in the conservatory some time ago."
"Did I" with a quick return of the angry expression he had then worn. "My face belied me then. I could hardly feel comfortable when I saw you laying yourself open to the ill-natured comments of the entire room."
"What do you mean Marmaduke?"
"You know what I mean. Is it the correct thing to dance the whole evening with one man!"
"What man?"
"Gore, of course. Every one remarked it. I wish you would try to be a little more dignified, and remember how censorious is the world in which we are living."
"Do you want me to understand that you think I was flirting with Sir Mark Gore?" I am literally trembling with indignation.