"You're not fit to go out to-morrow," she said. "I shall wire to old Campion."
"Mrs. Duchemin," Tietjens said woodenly. "Mrs. Macmaster that is, also used to burn a little incense in the room before the parties. . . . Those Chinese stinks . . . what do they call them? Well, it doesn't matter"; he added that resignedly. Then he went on: "Don't you make any mistake. Mrs. Macmaster is a very superior woman. Enormously efficient! Tremendously respected. I shouldn't advise even you to come up against her, now she's in the saddle."
Mrs. Tietjens said:
"That sort of woman!"
Tietjens said:
"I don't say you ever will come up against her. Your spheres differ. But, if you do, don't. . . . I say it because you seem to have got your knife into her."
"I don't like that sort of thing going on under my windows," Sylvia said.
Tietjens said:
"What sort of thing? . . . I was trying to tell you a little about Mrs. Macmaster . . . she's like the woman who was the mistress of the man who burned the other fellow's horrid book. . . . I can't remember the names."
Sylvia said quickly: