"Bloody little pansy!" remarked Lord Guisborough, drawn into brief fellowship with Mr. Harte.
"Dan!" Sydney repeated. "I wondered if you'd be here! I've been trying to get hold of you all day!" He glanced at Cynthia, jealousy in his face, and said curtly: "How do you do? Dan, I rang you up five times, but your man said you were out!"
Seaton-Carew, like many before him, had grown tired of the exigencies of intimacy with his young friend. Moreover, he disliked having his tete-a-tetes interrupted. He said, rather brutally: "Yes, that's what I told him to say. What the hell's the matter anyway?"
Sydney flushed vividly, and stammered: "I haven't seen anything of you for days! I was afraid you were ill, or something!"
"Well, I'm not. Do, for God's sake, stop barging in where you ought to be able to see you're not wanted!"
The flush died, leaving Sydney's face very white. "I see!" he said, in a low, shaking voice. "That's how it is, is it? When Cynthia's around you've no use for me!"
"Oh, shut up!" Seaton-Carew said roughly. "I've had enough of your scenes! Either behave like a reasonable being or get out! Making a damned exhibition of yourself - I'm fed up with it!"
"You mean you're fed up with me!"
"All right, I mean that!" Seaton-Carew said, exasperated.
Cynthia gave a nervous giggle, glancing towards the front drawing-room, where people were beginning to assemble. "For goodness' sake!" she whispered. "Mummy will have a fit!"