Jennifer rose.
"Well, I will—but—oh, I am very nervous! I expect you dance so well."
"I don't think I do, but I am sure you under-rate your dancing. Let us essay each other!"
From across the room Cleone saw them. She promptly looked away, but contrived, nevertheless, to keep an eye on their movements. She saw Philip presently lead Jenny to a chair and sit talking to her. Then he hailed a passing friend and presented him to Jennifer. Cleone watched him walk across the room to a knot of men. He returned to Jennifer with several of them. Unreasoning anger shook Cleone. Why did Philip care what happened to Jennifer? Why was he so assiduous in his attentions? She told herself she was an ill-natured cat, but she was still angry. From Jennifer Philip went to Ann Nutley.
Sir Deryk stopped fanning Cleone.
"There he goes! I declare, Philip Jettan makes love to every pretty woman he meets! Just look at them!"
Cleone was looking. Her little teeth were tightly clenched.
"Mr. Jettan is a flatterer," she said.
"Always so abominably French, too. Mistress Ann seems amused. I believe Jettan is a great favourite with the ladies of Paris."