'I'll go and say good-night to Lucy,' said Miss Entwhistle as they got up.
'You'll be so good as to do nothing of the sort,' said Wemyss.
'I—beg your pardon?' inquired Miss Entwhistle, not quite sure she could have heard right.
At this point they were both just in front of Vera's portrait on their way to the door, and she was looking at each of them, impartially strangling her smile.
'I wish to speak to you in the library,' said Wemyss.
'But suppose I don't wish to be spoken to in the library?' leapt to the tip of Miss Entwhistle's tongue.
There, however, was Chesterton,—checking, calming.
So she said, instead, 'Do.'