“He keeps the whole thing going, I must say. One of those born organizers. Now! what about you and Iris?”
This came so suddenly, without preparation, that it took me a suspiciously long time to answer, weakly: “I don’t know what you mean. What about Iris and me?”
“Darling, I know everything.” She looked at me in her eager, predatory way: I was secretly pleased that, in this particular case at least, she knew nothing.
“Then tell me.”
“You’re in love with her and she’s classically involved with Cave.”
“Classical seems to be the wrong word. Nothing has happened and nothing will happen.”
“I suppose she told you this herself.”
I was trapped for a moment. Clarissa, even in error, was shrewd and if one was not on guard she would quickly cease to be in error, at one’s expense.
“No, not exactly; but Paul who does, I think, know everything about our affairs assures me that nothing has happened, that Cave is not interested in women.”
“In men?”