Miss Williams raised a pair of velvety brown eyes to Antonia's face, and put up a well-manicured hand to smooth her sleek black hair. “Tony darling, I don't think you ought to talk like that,” she said. “Personally, I feel -”
“Good God, you were right!” exclaimed Kenneth. “My adored one, where did you pick up that bestial habit? Don't say personally, I implore you!”
A faint tinge of colour stole into the creamy cheeks. “Well, really, Kenneth!” said Miss Williams.
“For God's sake, don't hurt her feelings,” begged Antonia. “I'm damned if I'll have any nauseating reconciliations over supper. And while we happen to be on this subject, who the devil asked you how you think I should talk, Violet?”
The brown eyes narrowed a little. “I suppose I can have my opinions, can't I?” said Miss Williams silkily.
“You look lovely when you're angry,” said Kenneth suddenly. “Go on, Tony: say something more.”
Miss Williams' beautiful lips parted and showed small very white teeth. “I think you're perfectly horrid, both of you, and I utterly refuse to quarrel with you. Poor little me! What chance have I got with two people at me once? How awful for you to have actually been at Mr Vereker's house when it happened, Tony! It must have been ghastly for you. I simply can't bear to think of it. Let's talk of something else!”
“Why can't you bear to think of it?” asked Kenneth, not so much captious as interested. “Do you object to blood?”
She gave a shudder. “Don't Kenneth, please! Really, I can't stand it.”
“Just as you like, my treasure, though why you should turn queasy at the thought of Arnold's being stabbed I can't imagine. You never even knew him.”