Again Philip bowed.
"I have always intended to wed her."
"You?" Brenderby stared. "I never knew that! What of that young sprig Winton?"
"Oh, I think I can persuade James!"
"Like this?" Brenderby glanced down at his arm.
"No, not like that. Tell me, sir, did you intend to wed Mademoiselle?"
"Heaven forbid! I've no mind to tie myself up yet awhile. Your entrance last night forced me to say what I did to spare the lady's blushes. I'd no notion of continuing the comedy, until young Winton thrust in with his prior claim. Gad, but 'twas amusing! Did you not find it so?"
"I? No. But I was closely concerned in the affair, you see. I may take it that you will say naught of last night's work?"
"Of course not. 'Twas a mad jest, but I'd not let it go so far as to damage a lady's reputation. And you may tell Mistress Cleone that I apologise—for what happened before. She's too damnably beautiful."
Philip worked himself into his coat.