"He's a brute, Miss Champney—an utter brute; that's because he's never been kissed."
"Oh, how very interethting! Haven't you really, Mr. Bent? Oh, you're really quite hopeleth."
Mrs. Cheyne sipped her tea quite fastidiously and listened, bored to the point of extinction. Nor did her expression change when, some moments later, Jeff Wray was announced. Camilla's face was the only one in the room which showed surprise. She had not seen her husband for several days, and she noticed, as he came over and spoke to Mrs. Rumsen, that he looked more than ordinarily tired and worried. With Camilla he exchanged a careless greeting and then passed her on his way to the others. The servant brought the decanter and soda bottle, and he sank on the divan by the side of Rita Cheyne. It surprised him a little when she began talking quite through him to their host and the Baroness, whom they were asking to sing again.
It was a Chanson Galante of Bemberg
"A la cour
A la cour
Aimer est un badinage
Et l'amour
Et l'amour
N'est dangereux qu'au village
Un berger
Un berger
Si la bergere n'est tendre
Sait se prendre
Sait se prendre
Mais il ne saurait changer.
Et parmi nous quand les belles
Sont legeres ou cruelles,
Loin d'en mourir de depit
On en rit, on en rit,
Et l'on change aussi-tot qu'elles."
Jeff listened composedly and joined perfunctorily in the applause. Rita Cheyne laughed.
"Charming, Baroness. I'm so in sympathy with the sentiment, too. It's delightfully French."
"What is the sentiment?" asked Jeff vaguely of any one.
Mrs. Cheyne undertook to explain.
"That love is only dangerous to the villager, Mr. Wray. In the city it's a joke—it amuses and helps to pass the time."