"Miss Killigrew is rather an unusual young person," was his comment.
"Uncommon," replied Thomas, scrutinizing the point of his pen.
"For my part, I prefer 'em clinging." Lord Monckton rose.
"Rotter!" breathed Thomas. He rearranged his papers, crackling them suggestively.
"Picnic this afternoon; going along?" asked Lord Monckton, pausing by the portières.
"Really, I am not a guest here; I am only private secretary to Mrs. Killigrew. If they treat me as a human being it is because they believe that charity should not play in grooves."
"Ah! We are all open to a little charity."
"That's true enough. Good morning."
"Beggar!" murmured Lord Monckton as he let the portières fall behind him.
"Blighter!" muttered Thomas, staring malevolently at the empty doorway. He would be glad when Mr. and Mrs. Crawford and the artist came down. Forbes was a chap you could get along with anywhere, under any conditions.