The Transformation of Philip Jettan

by Georgette Heyer

"And I." Sir Deryk passed his arm round Cleone's waist. "I hold Cleone to the promise she has given me!"

Philip interposed.

"Probably the lady would be glad of a chair," he suggested evenly. "James, Brenderby—let your future wife sit down!"

Sir Deryk's shoulders shook. He led Cleone to the couch, and she sank on to it, hiding her face.

Philip swung the curtain aside.

"Permit me to withdraw. Decidedly I am de trop. Mademoiselle, messieurs!" He went out, and the curtain fell back into place.

"Oh, oh, oh!" moaned Cleone.

James bent over her.

"Come, Clo! Let me take you back to your aunt!"

Brenderby stepped to Cleone's other side.