Scalding tears dropped on to Cleone's pillow that night. Philip had returned, indifferent, blasé, even scornful! Philip who had once loved her so dearly, Philip who had once been so strong and masterful, was now a dainty, affected Court gallant. Why, why had she sent him away? And, oh, how dared he treat her with that mocking admiration? Suddenly Cleone sat up.
"I hate him!" she told the bed-post. "I hate him, and hate him, and hate him."
Philip was smiling when François disrobed him, a smile that held much of tenderness.
"Cela marche," decided François. "I go to have a mistress."
[Thirteen]
Sir Maurice Comes to Town
A tall gentleman rang the bell of Mr. Thomas Jettan's house with some vigour. The door was presently opened by the depressed Moggat.
"Where's your master, Moggat?" demanded the visitor abruptly.