Hal smiled more soberly than was her wont.
“And what of you?”
“What of me?... Oh, I don’t come into that sort of scheme. I never ought to have been there at all. Still, I’m glad I showed him he’d got something in himself beside the stale accumulations of many banker ancestors; if it’s only for the sake of the next little banker, who may want to lay claim to an individual soul.”
“But it hurt, Lorraine?... don’t tell me it didn’t hurt after... after—”
“Oh yes, it hurt,” with a low, bitter laugh; “but what of that either? It’s generally the woman who gets hurt; but I suppose I knew I was riding for a fall.”
“I don’t suppose you are any more hurt than he is. You know he worshipped you.”
“Yes; only presently it will be easy for him to get back into the old, orthodox groove with ‘Alice’, and persuade himself that I was only a youthful infatuation, whereas I— Oh, what does it matter, Hal! Come out of that ‘great-aunt’ mood, and let’s be jolly while we can. I’ll ring for coffee and liqueurs, and then we’ll make lots of ripping plans to see everything in England worth seeing—until I can find time to go abroad.”
Hal sprang off her table.
“Oh, very well,” she rejoined, “Let’s get rowdy and sing the song ‘Love may go hang.’ When I’ve got it over with Dudley, we’ll just go straight on, keeping a good look out for the next fence. You’d better tell me something about this paternal husband of yours, just to prepare me for our meeting. He doesn’t put his knife in his mouth, and that sort of thing, does he?”
“No; not quite so bad. His worst offence at present, I think, is to call me ‘wifey’.”