This information did not afford the Viscount any gratification. He ground his teeth. “She is, is she? And I thought — !” His feelings again overcame him, and he resumed his pacing about the room. He was about to speak again when a distant medley of sound which had been vaguely irritating him since his entrance into the room more forcibly intruded upon his ears. “What the devil is that infernal howling?” he demanded.
“Devilish, ain’t it?” agreed George. “It’s the Harmonic Society. They meet here every week. Wouldn’t have come if I’d known. They sing glees.”
“What!” Sherry exclaimed incredulously. “You mean to tell me they come here just to kick up that curst caterwauling din every week? Well, there’s a horrible thing! Bath! That’s Bath for you!”
“You’d think it was enough to put the shutters up at this place, wouldn’t you?” said George. “Gave me a nasty start when they first struck up, I can tell you.”
Both young gentlemen brooded silently for a moment or two over a state of society that could permit such atrocities. A pause in the musical activities in the distance recalled Sherry to more pressing matters. He cast George a measuring glance, and said: “How often have you been here since Kitten left me?”
“Dash it, Sherry, what kind of a fellow do you think I am?” said George indignantly. “I never came near the place till I heard you was on your way! Then I had to warn Lady Sherry. You’d have done the same in my shoes!”
“Had to warn her!” ejaculated Sherry. “As though I had been a regular Bluebeard! If that don’t beat all!”
“Well, you scared her into running away from you,” said George unkindly.
Sherry picked up his curly-brimmed beaver, which he had flung into a chair, and carefully smoothed its nap. “I’ve nothing more to say to you!” he announced. “I’m going to see my wife!”
“It’s no use your going there tonight,” said George. “She’s gone to some party or another. They don’t expect her back until after midnight.”