“All ladies are wonderful!” said the Count, with a grave bow. “They are as the good God made them.”
“I don’t agree with you there,” snapped Mrs. Harrington. “So you saw the Ingham-Bakers also, Fitz?”
“Yes; they lunched with us.”
“And Agatha was very pleasant, no doubt?”
“Very.”
“She always is--to men. The Count admires her greatly. She makes him do so.”
“She has an easy task,” put in De Lloseta quietly. It almost seemed that there was some feeling about Agatha between these two people.
“You know,” Mrs. Harrington went on, addressing herself to Fitz, “that Luke and I have made it up. We are friends now.”
Fitz did not answer at once. His face clouded over. Seen thus in anger, it was almost a hard face, older and somewhat worn. He raised his eyes, and they as suddenly softened, for Eve’s eyes had met them, and she seemed to understand.
“I am not inclined to discuss Luke,” he said quietly.