It was only too obvious that he didn’t; that he misconstrued her gentle repulse of all familiarity into a prudish discouragement of this particular expression of it, and his manner suggested satisfaction that she should prefer to receive his caresses when they were alone. It was a case of another door being opened and one which resisted her efforts to close it.
“I’d like to go home,” she said. “Do you think you could find Raymond?”
The Hon. Member for Morroway knew his hostess too well to commit himself to a definite promise. But he murmured something hopeful and made his way with a good deal of bluster to the top of the house.
The door of the Eyrie was closed.
CHAPTER 16.
Meanwhile, Dilling had been an unwilling victim to Hebe Barrington’s charms.
“Your wife is coming home with me for a bite of supper,” she had written him, “and I want you, too. The bald truth is—I don’t trust Toddles with a pretty woman, so you must be on hand to see her home.”
But although he had signified his readiness to perform this happy task several times, she had made it impossible for him to break away.
“Don’t you love my little nest?” asked Hebe, closing the door and leading him by the arm to a deep couch, standing well beyond the faint light thrown by a winking oriental lantern.
“It’s very unusual,” said Dilling.