Paddy bowed very stiffly, but as Gwen promptly held out her hand, she was obliged to take it. She managed, however, to avoid doing likewise with Lawrence. Gwen pretended not to notice her coldness, and remarked laughingly:
“I’m so glad I didn’t miss that. You can’t think how funny it looked—in Regent Street of all places, too?”
Paddy was constrained to laugh again at the recollection, but she busied herself trying to rearrange the tomatoes in a secure fashion, and absolutely refused to look at Lawrence.
“I think they will be all right now,” she said. “Thank you so much for helping me to pick them up. I’m in rather a hurry, as I have to be at the surgery by half-past five—if you will excuse my running off. Good-by!” and in two seconds she was vanishing in the crowd.
Gwen looked at Lawrence drolly.
“She’s a good hater,” she remarked. “Gwen isn’t used to being put off in that summary fashion. She doesn’t like it, Lawrie.”
“It’s your own fault. You practically pushed me into the introduction.”
“Because I wanted to know her. It isn’t often people don’t want to know Gwennie. I don’t understand!—me ne comprenez pas, Lawrie. This is going to be interesting,” she ran on. “I shall insist upon Doreen inviting me to meet her in Cadogan Place.”
Paddy meanwhile scrambled on to her ’bus, tomatoes held safely this time, and started homeward feeling furious.
“How dare he introduce me!” she mused angrily. “He knows I hate her. How dare he stop me at all in that cool fashion!” calmly ignoring the fact that the tomatoes and her own carelessness, not Lawrence, had done the stopping. “How pretty she is!” she went on in the same angry way. “She’s as pretty as Eileen. I wouldn’t have cared so much if she had been plain, I think, but she’s just lovely. Oh, I hate her, I hate her—I just hate them both!”