Audrey was just in the mood to be reckless of consequences, for she had quite made up her mind not to be the figure-head of this establishment any longer. The scenes which she had gone through with the young Angmerings and with Mr. Candover had left their traces upon her outward demeanour. She was flushed, excited, her mouth was set in a fashion which caused the clever and observant Durley Diggs to note her every movement, her every look, from where he stood behind Sir Harry Archdale.
“I’ve been most awfully unlucky, Madame Rocada,” said the young baronet with the utmost good humour, as he shook hands with her.
“Why do you play then, if you always lose?” she asked, with surprising frankness.
“Well, really, Madame, your house is such a pleasant one, and one enjoys oneself so much here,” he answered, after a moment’s pause, “that, when one sees other people playing, one must play too.”
“I should not, if I found that I always lost,” said Audrey, with more and more point, as she noticed that Durley Diggs was moving about uneasily behind Sir Harry. “At least, I should not play in the same house or with the same people, when I found myself always losing.”
“By Jove, I believe your plan would be the wisest,” answered Sir Harry, after another bewildered pause, during which he had been struck by the fact that the lady was not speaking in jest, as he had at first supposed, but in deadly earnest, with firm lips and grave eyes.
“Who did you play with?” she again asked abruptly.
But at that point Durley Diggs came forward and held out his hand, with the conventional murmurs about “a pleasant evening”.
“Have you lost too?” asked Audrey sharply, speaking with more abruptness than she was aware of.
The secretary suddenly changed colour, hesitated a moment, and then answered in so reserved and strange a manner that Audrey, who had put her question in all good faith, had her suspicions roused at once.