She made a little gesture of distaste.
“Don’t let us talk about him,” she said briefly and went on to talk of Dempsi.
“He has been simply splendid. Really I have had a pleasant shock: the only one of that variety he has ever given me. I shouldn’t have thought that a man of his excitable temperament could have taken the matter so calmly. But he is subdued. A little nervous, I think, about the shooting. He was very anxious to know if I had informed the police, but of course I hadn’t—so far as Mr. Superbus’ toe was concerned. He’s going to-day.”
“Not Dempsi?”
She nodded.
“He says he’ll wait for me for a thousand years,” she sighed. “I told him a hundred would be long enough—heigho! He hasn’t spoken otherwise about marriage all the morning. I almost like him for it.”
The subject of conversation strolled into the room a few minutes later. He was looking haggard, Bobbie thought, and remarkably unattractive.
“Good morning, Mr. Selsbury—you have not seen Aunt Lizzie? I wished to condole with her. It is terrible when lovers are parted—but how terrible for you! Double Dan, you say? It makes my flesh creep. Yet”—his admiring eyes beamed upon his hostess—“yet our little Diana did not fear! Ah, that was most wonderful. But tell me—who is Aunt Lizzie?”
“A friend of mine,” said Diana shortly.
Dempsi shook his head in sorrow.