"So she believed. Miss Tomalin is a recent discovery—the fruit of Mr. Kerchever's researches."
"Ah! That's rather amusing. Lucky, I imagine, that she is such a presentable person. She might have been—"
He checked himself significantly, and Constance allowed an absent smile to pass over her face.
"I'm afraid," Dyce continued, "this change won't be quite pleasant to you?"
"To me? It makes no difference—none whatever. Will you please sit down? I dislike to talk with anyone who keeps fidgeting about."
One might have detected more than discomfort in Miss Bride's look and voice. A sudden flash of something very like anger shone in her eyes; but they were bent and veiled.
"Let us talk about Hollingford," said Lashmar, drawing up a chair. "It begins to look as if things were really in train. Of course, I shall go down to talk to them. Will you help me in putting my programme together?"
"Isn't that already done?"
"Why, no. What do I care about their party questions? I'm sure your advice would be valuable. Could you find time to jot down a few ideas?"
"If you think it any use, certainly. I can't promise to do it this evening; we have people to dine."