"Have you seen her,—lately?" he parried.
"Yesterday afternoon," she answered, keeping her eyes upon his half-averted face. "See here, Eric Temple," she broke out suddenly, "she is unhappy—most unhappy. I am not sure that I ought to tell you—and yet, you are in love with her, so you should know. Now, don't say you are not in love with her! Save your breath. The trouble is, you are not the only man who is in that peculiar fix."
"I know," he said, frowning darkly. "She's being annoyed by that infernal blighter."
"Oho, so you do know, then?" she cried. "She was very careful to leave you out of the story altogether. Well, I'm glad you know. What are you going to do about it?"
"I? Why,—why, what can I do?"
"There is a great deal you can do."
"But she has laid down the law, hard and fast. She won't let me," he groaned.
The Marchioness blinked rapidly. "Well, of all the stupid,—Say that again, please."
"She won't let me. I would in a second, you know,—no matter if it did land me in jail for—"
"What are you talking about?" she gasped.