“Couldn’t have been,” said Mr. Scunthorpe simply. “Not a member. Chuffy Wivenhoe.”
“Lord Wivenhoe! Oh, what a fool I have been!” cried Arabella. “It was I who made him known to Lord Wivenhoe!”
“Pity,” said Mr. Scunthorpe, shaking his head.
“But how wicked of him to have led Bertram to such a place! Oh, how could he have done so? I had no suspicion—I thought him so agreeable, and gentlemanlike—!”
“Polite to a point,” agreed Mr. Scunthorpe. “Very good sort of a man: very well-liked. Daresay he did it for the best.”
“How could he think so?” Arabella said hotly.
“Very exclusive club,” he pointed out.
She said impatiently. “It is of no use for us to argue on that head. Where is Bertram?”
“Don’t think you’d know the place, ma’am. It’s—it’s near Westminster!”
“Very well, let us go there at once!”