'Your friend Egremont has come out in a new part—his first appearance in it, absolutely, though he can't be said to have created the role. He's run away with a girl from Lambeth—in fact, the girl who was just going to be married to his right-hand man, his librarian.'
Paula looked up in astonishment: then, with indignant incredulity, she said:
'What do you mean? What's your object in talking nonsense of that kind?'
'Again and again I have to tell you that I never talk nonsense; I am a politician. I heard the news this morning from Tasker. The man Grail—Egremont's librarian—was to have been married two days ago, Monday. Last Friday night his bride-elect disappeared. She's a very pretty girl, Tasker tells me—wonderfully pretty for one in her position, a work-girl. Egremont seems to have thought it a pity to let her be wasted. He's been meeting her secretly for some time—in the library, of all places, whilst the man Grail was at work, poor fellow! And at last he carried her off. There's no getting on his track, I'm told. The question is: What will become of the embryo library? The whole thing's about the finest joke I've heard for some time.'
Paula had reddened. Her eyes flashed anger.
'I don't know whether you've invented it,' she said, 'or whether your secretary has, but I know there isn't one word of truth in it.'
'My dear child, it's no invention at all. The affair is the common talk of Lambeth.'
'Then do you mean to say Mr. Egremont has married this girl?'
'Well, I don't know that we'll discuss that point,' Dalmaine replied, twiddling his thumbs. 'There's no information to hand.'
'I don't believe it! I tell you I don't believe it! Mr. Egremont is engaged to my cousin Annabel; and besides, he couldn't do such a thing. He isn't a man of that kind.'