“I sincerely hope that your ‘lastly’ is true. Am I to understand, then, that you do not care to buy one of the other puppies?”
And suddenly the girl laughed half-angrily.
“What do you mean by daring to say such a thing to me? Why, you haven’t known me for more than two minutes.”
“That is not strictly true, Lady Cynthia. Anyone who is capable of reading and takes in the illustrated papers can claim your acquaintance weekly.”
“I see,” she answered. “You disapprove of my poor features being reproduced.”
“Personally not at all,” he replied. “I know enough of the world, and am sufficiently broadminded, I trust, to realise how completely unimportant the matter is. Lady Cynthia Stockdale at Ascot, at Goodwood, in her motor-car, out of her motor-car, by the fire, by the gas stove, in her boudoir, out of her boudoir, in the garden, not in the garden—and always in a different frock every time. It doesn’t matter to me, but there are some people who haven’t got enough money to pay for the doctor’s bill when their wives are dying. And it’s such a comfort to them to see you by the fire. To know that half the money you paid for your frock would save the life of the woman they love.”
“You’re talking like a ranting tub-thumper,” she cried, furiously. “How dare you say such things to me? And, anyway, does breeding dogs in the wilderness help them with their doctors’ bills?”
“Touché,” said the man, with a faint smile. “Perhaps I haven’t expressed myself very clearly. You can’t pay the bills, Lady Cynthia—I can’t. There are too many thousands to pay. But it’s the bitter contrast that hits them, and it’s all so petty.” For a while he paused, seeming to seek for his words. “Come with me, Lady Cynthia, and I’ll show you something.”
Almost violently he swung round on his heel and strode off towards the house. For a moment she hesitated, then she followed him slowly. Anger and indignation were seething in her mind; the monstrous impertinence of this complete stranger was almost bewildering. She found him standing in his smoking-room unlocking a drawer in a big writing-desk.
“Well,” she said uncompromisingly from the doorway.