"When is the next Meeting—and where?" she said.
Gay told her, and making a rapid calculation of dates and engagements, Effie exclaimed:
"There's no racing that day! Look here, Gay, I'll use every means of bribery and corruption to get Tom to drive us down—"
"Don't," said Gay coldly. "Put it on the bare ground of loyalty to a friend."
"Call it what you like. And if he does, we'll stick to you like burrs—anyone who cheapens you, takes on the three—"
"Thank you, Effie," said Gay quietly, but wishing all the same that her friend had done the right thing, without having the way pointed out to her so violently.
"Come out," cried Effie briskly—"come out and show yourself. My motor's at the door. Put on your smartest hat and clothes, and your best 'don't-care-a-damn' smile, and face the music."
Gay did, and by the time they had shopped in Bond Street, traversed Piccadilly twice, dropped in at Effie's club, and fooled round generally till lunch-time, then attended an At Home or two, winding up with tea at Rumpelmeyer's, it was the general opinion of those who saw her, that the person least ashamed of what she had done the preceding day, was Miss Gay Lawless.