"That is something like," he said. "By Jove! you look most awfully fetching! A little ice-bergy," he continued, bending to kiss the white shoulder above the Mechlin lace: "but--but that's your style. Only I wish you had more colour. If this 'biz' of mine comes off, we'll take a holiday somewhere--Monte Carlo, perhaps--the Hirsches are going there. Now we ought to be starting. You don't mind my dancing, do you dearest? I do wish you'd learn. It looks so odd your sitting out with the old fogies."
"I shall sit out with Ned," she replied lightly.
For the first time in her life Ted frowned at her. "It seems to me," he said quite nastily, "that you have done a lot of sitting-out with Ned lately. I don't half like it."
She stared at him, and all the way to New Park sat thinking of what he had said. Was it possible he was going to be jealous of her? Of her who had married him to get rid of the very possibility.
A ray of light from a gas-lamp lit up her face, and she found Ted's eyes fastened on her.
"You are most awfully fetching to-night--you look so jolly mysterious somehow," he said joyously, putting his cheek against hers. "Give me a kiss, wifelet."
She gave him one. She would have given him a dozen of the trivial things had he asked for them! Then she laid her hand on his.
"You weren't serious about Ned, were you?" she asked.
"Not--not altogether," he admitted with a smile; "but you can't be too careful, my child. People are the devil to talk. And you mustn't forget that he did want to marry you."
She must not forget! And all her efforts had been to forget it utterly. What a queer world it was!