The Transformation of Philip Jettan

by Georgette Heyer

"Ay, with Sally Malmerstoke. She is already noticed. Sally takes her everywhere. She is now looked for—and courted." His eyes twinkled.

"Oho!" said Philip. He poured out a glass of burgundy from the decanter that stood on a small table. "So she is furious with me, yes?"

"So I believe. Satterthwaite wrote that you and Bancroft fought over the fair name of some French lass. Did you?"

Philip sipped his wine.

"Not a whit. 'Twas her own fair name, à vrai dire."

"Oh! You'll tell her that, of course?"

"Not at all."

Tom stared.

"What then? Have you some deep game in mind, Philip?"

"Perhaps. Oh, I don't know! I thank her for reforming me, but, being human, I am hurt and angry! Le petit Philippe se fâche," he said, smiling suddenly. "He would see whether it is himself she loves, or—a painted puppet. It's foolish, but what would you?"