"Yes, it strikes me that you're just about as bad as she is, sir," said Hemingway severely, and left them. Mary found herself to be so much in agreement with this pronouncement, that instead of inviting Hugh to stay to lunch, she asked somewhat crossly if he had come to Palings for any particular purpose.
"Only to return Sarah Bernhardt to the bosom of her family," he replied. "The lady's car died on her."
"Yes, and I quite think I went over rather well with your father," said Vicky, "which is a thing I didn't expect, because he didn't take to me in the least when I was being a Girl of the Century. Mary, you were too utterly right not to go to the Inquest! It was wholly spurious."
"Where's Maurice?" Mary demanded, unheeding.
"Oh, he went away! He didn't seem to me to have the party spirit at all. Probably Alexis has trodden him down, like Keats, or someone."
Mary sighed. "I suppose you mean by that that he saw how serious the whole situation is."
"We all see that," said Hugh.
"Well, you seem to be getting a good deal of amusement out of it."
"Sorry! You shouldn't have loosed Vicky on to me."
"I'm glad you find her so funny. I don't," said Mary, walking to the staircase.