The cab drove off, skirting the gaily-lit crescent of Regent Street. The smile almost at once died away from her lips. She leaned forward and looked at herself in one of the oblong mirrors. Her face was almost colourless, the skin seemed drawn closely round her eyes, giving her almost a strained look. For the rest, her hair, smoothly brushed away from her face, was in perfect order, her prim little hat was at exactly the right angle, her little white tie alone relieved the sombreness of her black jacket. She sighed and suddenly felt a moistening of her hot eyes. She leaned far back into the corner of the cab.
CHAPTER VI
KINGSTON BROOKS, PHILANTHROPIST
"It is my deliberate intention," Lord Arranmore said, leaning over towards her from his low chair, "to make myself a nuisance to you." Lady Caroom smiled at him thoughtfully.
"Thank you for the warning," she said, "but I can take care of myself.
I do not feel even obliged to deny myself the pleasure of your society."
"No, you won't do that," he remarked. "You see, so many people bore you, and I don't."
"It is true," she admitted. "You pay me nothing but unspoken compliments, and you devote a considerable amount of ingenuity to conceal the real meaning of everything you say. Now some people might not like that. I adore it."
"Catherine, will you marry me?"
"Certainly not! I'm much too busy looking after Sybil, and in any case you've had your answer, my friend."
"You will marry me," he said, deliberately, "in less than two years—perhaps in less than one. Why can't you make your mind up to it?"