“Yes, by God, I was!” replied Sherry, wrenching free from Mr Ringwood’s grasp. “Damn you; Gil, let go!”
Ferdy, who had been standing with his mouth open, staring, suddenly rose superbly to the occasion, and offered his arm to Hero with a graceful bow. “Let me escort you back to the ballroom!” he said.
“Yes, but — Sherry, you must not mind George’s kissing me!” said Hero, looking from one to the other in a little dismay. “Indeed, there was not the least harm in it, was there, George?”
“Dear Kitten,” promptly replied George, bowing with even more grace than Ferdy, “there was much pleasure!”
Horrified at such provocative behaviour, Ferdy exchanged one startled glance with Mr Ringwood, and bore Hero out of the room.
“Of course there wasn’t any harm in it!” said Mr Ringwood. “All the same, you oughtn’t to kiss Sherry’s wife, George, and as for you, Sherry, if you hadn’t drunk so much champagne punch you’d have more sense than to kick up a dust over — dash it, you know what I mean! She’s as innocent as a newborn lamb!”
“ She!” the Viscount ejaculated. He ground his teeth in a very alarming manner, and rolled a fiery eye at Wrotham. “I don’t need you to tell me my wife’s innocent, I thank you, Gil! But as for that — that rake, that wolf in sheep’s clothing, that — that commoner — ”
“No, dash it, Sherry, you can’t call George a commoner!” protested Mr Ringwood. “All a mistake! George wouldn’t — I wish to God you will stop standing there looking like a hero, George, and beg Sherry’s pardon!”
“Never,” said Wrotham, flicking an imaginary speck of dust from his sleeve with a flourish of his handkerchief, “in my life, have I begged any man’s pardon!”
“Nothing in that, George!” said Ferdy, who had just come back into the room. “Never know what you may come to! Why, look at me! Always swore I’d never bet on a horse with three white stockings, but I did it, and look what came of it! Won in a canter! All goes to show!”