"No, I did not. How could I? There was a certain measure of tr—"
Lady Malmerstoke leaned back disgustedly.
"God preserve me from young men! You admitted it?"
"No—that is, I was frank with her."
"Great heavens, Philip! Frank with a woman? God help you, then! And what next? Did you tell Cleone not to be a fool? Did you insist that she should listen to you?"
"How could I? She—"
"You didn't. You walked off when you should have mastered her. I'll wager my best necklet she was waiting for you to assert yourself. And now she's probably miserable. Serve her right, and you too."
"But, Lady Malmerstoke—"
"Not but what I don't sympathise with the child," continued her ladyship inexorably. "Of course, she is a fool, but so are all girls. A woman of my age don't inquire too closely into a man's past—we've learned wisdom. Cleone knows that you have trifled with a dozen other women. Bless you, she don't think the worse of you for that!"
"She does! She said—"