She stalked out of the room.
“Fortune!” said Faulks thunderously. “Will you kindly explain yourself?”
“I don’t think I need explaining. But you might ask your mother. She kept the telegram.” And to his mother Mr. Faulks fled.
“Good God, Fortune, what have you done?” Tom Beach groaned.
“Not a nice woman,” said Reggie sadly. “Not really a nice woman.” He stood up and sought the fire and lit a cigar and sighed relief.
“Mr. Fortune, what was in that telegram?” Sally cried.
Reggie sat down on the cushioned fender. “I don’t think you’re really a good little girl, you know,” he shook his head at her and surveyed the company. “Broadly speakin’ you ought all to be ashamed of yourselves. Except the Colonel.”
“Please, Mr. Fortune, I’ll never do it again,” said Alice plaintively. “Tom——” she sat on the arm of her husband’s chair and caressed him.
“All right, all right,” he submitted. “But I say, Fortune, what am I to do about Mrs. Faulks?”
“She’s done all there is to do. No, not a nice woman.”