Alison laughed. "I doubt I'm not so delicate," Then she leaned towards
Harry. "Well, and you? Come, Mr. Boyce, why leave yourself out?"
"I beg pardon, ma'am?"
She made an impatient sound. "And what do you think of my hero?"
"I wonder who the gentleman was, ma'am," Harry said.
Her eyes fought a moment more with his bland, meaningless face. "Faith, I think he's a fool for his pains," said she.
"Grateful woman," Hadley grunted. "Humph. Spretae injuria formae, ain't it, Mr. Boyce? Give miss a construe."
Harry gave a deprecating cough instead.
"Oh, be brave, sir," she jeered.
"I am afraid it means 'the insult of slighting your beauty,' ma'am," said
Harry meekly.
Lady Waverton straightened her back and looked ice at him. But the butler was at her elbow, whispering. "Colonel Boyce?" she repeated. "What Colonel Boyce? Who is Colonel Boyce?