"That is why they are agreeable, sir," said she.
"That is why they are true," said Hadley in the same breath, and they laughed together.
Lady Waverton interfered imperiously. "Alison, dear, come sit by me and tell me all about yourself."
"Faith, not with the gentlemen to listen," said she, and was saved by
Harry and the butler, who came in together announcing dinner.
Lady Waverton rose elaborately. "Give me your arm, Charles. My dear Alison—"
"But who is this?" Alison said, and she stared with placid, candid interest at Harry. With equal composure Harry stared back. But there was no candour in his expressionless face. For he had become keenly aware of her beauty. It was waking in him desire and already something deeper and stronger, and he vehemently resented the disturbance. He had no wish to be troubled by any woman, and for this woman, judging her on her behaviour, he felt even a little more contempt than the store which he had for all her sex. It was cursedly impertinent in her to be such a joy to the blood. She stood there, her eyes level with his eyes, and dared to look as strong as he—slighter to be sure, but not too slight for a woman, and delectably deep bosomed. There was life and laughter in that calm Greek face, and the vivid, delicate colour of it maddened him. The great crown of black hair was just what her brow needed for its royalty. He could find no fault in the irksome wench. Even her dress, dark grey as her eyes, perfectly became her, perfectly pleased in its generous modesty. And she knew of her power too. There was a mocking confidence in every line of her.
"But who is this, Lady Waverton?" she was saying again.
Lady Waverton tried to draw her on. "'Tis but Geoffrey's new factotum."
"My good friend, Harry Boyce, Alison," said Geoffrey with a patronly hand on Harry's shoulder.
Harry made his bow.