“Good evening, Miss Henning; what a jolly meeting!” said the Captain, removing his hat with a humorous flourish.
“Oh, how d’ye do?” Millicent returned, as if she did not immediately place him.
“Where were you going so fast? What are you doing?” asked Hyacinth, who had looked from one to the other.
“Well, I never did see such a manner—from one that knocks about like you!” cried Miss Henning. “I’m going to see a friend of mine—a lady’s-maid in Curzon Street. Have you anything to say to that?”
“Don’t tell us—don’t tell us!” Sholto interposed, after she had spoken (she had not hesitated an instant). “I, at least, disavow the indiscretion. Where may not a charming woman be going when she trips with a light foot through the gathering dusk?”
“I say, what are you talking about?” the girl inquired, with dignity, of Hyacinth’s companion. She spoke as if with a resentful suspicion that her foot had not really been perceived to be light.
“On what errand of mercy, of secret tenderness?” the Captain went on, laughing.
“Secret yourself!” cried Millicent. “Do you two always hunt in couples?”
“All right, we’ll turn round and go with you as far as your friend’s,” Hyacinth said.
“All right,” Millicent replied.