"I'll bet you can't," said Saltash, with a twist of the eyebrows that was oddly characteristic of him. "So I'll tell you. She's running in an obstacle race, and—to be quite, quite honest—I don't think she's going to win."
There was a moment's pause. Then the man on Juliet's other side spoke, briefly and with decision. "Miss Moore is no longer interested in Lady Joanna Farringmore's doings. Their friendship is at an end."
Juliet made a slight gesture of remonstrance, but she spoke no word in contradiction.
A gleam of malice danced in Saltash's eyes; it was like the turn of a rapier in a practised hand. "Most wise and proper!" he said. "Juliette, I always admired your discretion."
"You were always very kind, Charles Rex," she made grave reply.
CHAPTER III
THE PRICE
They went back up the winding glen, and as they went Lord Saltash talked, superbly at his ease, of the doings of the past few weeks, "since you and that naughty Lady Jo dropped out," as he expressed it to Juliet. He had just recently been to Paris, had motored across France, had just returned by sea from Bordeaux in his yacht, the Night Moth.
"Landed to-day—forgot this unspeakable flower-show—had to put in to get her cleaned up for Cowes—though it's quite possible I shan't go near Cowes when all's said and done. She's quite seaworthy, warranted not to kick in a gale. If anyone wanted her for a cruise—she's about the best thing going."
They reached the shrubbery to be nearly deafened by the band.