“Come,” he said, “my heart is not so easily won. I can assure you that I never aspire to so mighty a personage as a Covent Garden star. Don’t you know that she gets a salary of five hundred pounds a week, and wears ropes of pearls which would represent ten times my entire income? Heaven alone knows what her gowns cost!”
“After all, though,” murmured Zoe, “she is a woman. See, your friend is coming to speak to you.”
Bellamy was indeed crossing the room. He nodded to Laverick and bowed to his companion.
“Forgive my intruding, Laverick,” he said. “You do remember me, I hope? Bellamy, you know.”
“I remember you quite well. We used to play together at Lord’s, even after we left school.”
Bellamy smiled.
“That is so,” he answered. “I see by the papers that you have kept up your cricket. Mine, alas! has had to go. I have been too much of a rolling stone lately. Do you know that I have come to ask you a favor?”
“Go ahead,” Laverick interposed.
“Mademoiselle Idiale has a fancy to meet you,” Bellamy explained. “You know, or I dare say you have heard, what a creature of whims she is. If you won’t come across and be introduced like a good fellow, she probably won’t speak a word all through supper-time, go off in a huff, and my evening will be spoiled.”
Laverick laughed heartily. A little smile played at the corner of Zoe’s lips—nevertheless, she was looking slightly anxious.