Mrs Lawless smiled.
“He doesn’t like me,” she corrected. “And though I find that attitude interesting, it does not encourage affection on my side.”
“Impossible!” Van Bleit exclaimed incredulously. “Dear lady, you must be mistaken. I haven’t much of an opinion of him, but he can’t be such an unappreciative hog.”
The man referred to had risen, and, with his supper companion, now prepared to leave the room. They were not the first to make a move; the tables had thinned considerably since the entry of Van Bleit’s party. He paused for a second by Mrs Smythe’s chair and spoke to her, and bowed to Mrs Lawless. He did not see Van Bleit. Neither did he see Lawless. When he passed his table his head was turned towards his companion and he was deep in conversation with her.
Van Bleit watched him curiously, and the finely pointed ends of his moustache lifted slightly as the lips beneath it smiled.
“He rather overdoes it,” he murmured.
“Overdoes what?” his cousin questioned.
Van Bleit looked at her. He had not, as a matter of fact, intended the remark to be heard.
“His diplomacy.”
“You are pleased to be cryptic,” Mrs Smythe returned.