"Do not be so foolish," she said. "Yes, of course. You keep your share of the bargain and I mine. At eight o'clock, then. I will say no more now, as I am engaged with a visitor. Au revoir!"
She set down the receiver and turned towards Norgate, who was turning the pages of an illustrated paper. She made a little grimace.
"Oh, but life is very queer!" she declared. "How I love it! Now I am going to make you look glum, if indeed you do care just that little bit which is all you know of caring. Perhaps you will be a little disappointed. Tell me that you are, or my vanity will be hurt. Listen and prepare. To-night I cannot dine with you."
He turned deliberately around. "You are going to throw me over?" he demanded, looking at her steadfastly.
"To throw you over, dear friend," she repeated cheerfully. "You would do just the same, if you were in my position."
"It is an affair of duty," he persisted, "or the triumph of a rival?"
She made a grimace at him. "It is an affair of duty," she admitted, "but it is certainly with a rival that I must dine."
He moved a little nearer to her on the lounge.
"Tell me on your honour," he said, "that you are not dining with Baring, and I will forgive!"
For a moment she seemed as though she were summoning all her courage to tell the lie which he half expected. Instead she changed her mind.