Steppe had been to lunch and was in the hall about to take his departure when Sir John rang.
"He came," she said indifferently, "it was a—pleasant lunch. I think he enjoyed it. I had mealies for him and he wrestled with them happily."
"Did you discuss anything?"
"The happy day?" she said ironically. "Yes, next Tuesday. Quietly. We go to Paris the same night. He wants the honeymoon to be spent in the Bavarian Alps, and he is sending his car on to Paris. I think that is all the news."
Her indifference bothered him.
"Steppe, I am sure, is a man who improves on acquaintance," he said encouragingly.
"I am sure he does," she agreed politely, "will you tell Ronnie, or shall I write to him?"
"I will tell Ronnie," said the doctor hastily. "I don't think I should encourage a correspondence with him, if I were you, Beryl. Jan doesn't like it. He was furious about you insisting upon Ronnie coming out with us the other night."
"Very well," said Beryl.
"I think—I only think, you understand, that Steppe is under the impression that you were once very fond of Ronnie, or that you had an affair with him. He is a very jealous man. You must remember that, Beryl."