“You’re always chaffing me, Adele,” she said. “What a nuisance the telephone is. One never gets a rest from it. But I won’t be a moment.”
She tripped off.
“Tony, there’s a great deal to talk about,” said Adele quickly. “Now what’s the situation between the lovers? Perfect understanding or a quarrel? And who has been ringing her up? What would you bet that it was——”
“Alf,” said Tony.
“I wonder. Tony, about the lovers. There’s something. I never saw such superb indifference. How I shall laugh at Marcia. She’s producing no effect at all. Lucia doesn’t take the slightest notice. I knew she would be great. Last night we had a wonderful talk in Marcia’s room, till Aggie was an ass. There she is again. Now we shall know.”
Lucia came quickly along the terrace.
“Adele dear,” she said. “Would it be dreadful of me if I left this afternoon? They’ve rung me up from Riseholme. Georgie rang me up. My Pepino is very far from well. Nothing really anxious, but he’s in bed and he’s alone. I think I had better go.”
“Oh my dear,” said Adele, “of course you shall do precisely as you wish. I’m dreadfully sorry: so shall we all be if you go. But if you feel you would be easier in your mind——”
Lucia looked round on all the brilliant little groups. She was leaving the most wonderful party: it was the highest perch she had reached yet. On the other hand she was leaving her lover, which was a compensation. But she truly didn’t think of any of these things.