He hesitated. "I'm not quite sure whether I can, Vivian. I've got a half-way sort of—"
"Oh, do, old chap," cut in Leslie, more as a command than an entreaty. "Sorry I can't be there myself, but you'll fare quite as well without me. I'm dining at Sara's. Wants my private ear about one thing and another—see what I mean?"
"We shall expect you, Brandon," said Mrs. Wrandall, fixing him with her lorgnette.
"I'll come, thank you," said he.
He felt disgustingly transparent under that inquisitive glass.
Wrandall stepped out of the car. "I'll stop off for a chat with Brandy, mother."
"Shall I send the car back, dear?"
"Never mind. I'll walk down."
The two men turned in at the gate as the car sped away.
"Well," said Booth, "it's good to see you. Pat!" He called through a basement window. "Come up and take the gentleman's order."