She rose from her chair as if to join her aunt and the horticultural old gentleman.
“You must not say that,” she said, in little more than a whisper, and without looking round she went towards Lady Cantourne. Her eyes were gleaming with a singular suppressed excitement, such as one sees in the eyes of a man fresh from a mad run across country.
Guy Oscard rose also, and followed more deliberately. There was nothing for him to do but to take his leave.
“But,” said Lady Cantourne graciously, “if you are determined to go away you must at least come and say good-bye before you leave.”
“Thanks; I should like to do so, if I may.”
“We shall be deeply disappointed if you forget,” said Millicent, holding out her hand, with a smile full of light-heartedness and innocent girlish friendship.
CHAPTER VI. UNDER THE LINE
Enough of simpering and grimace,
Enough of vacuity, trimmed with lace.
“Curse this country! Curse it—curse it!” The man spoke aloud, but there was no one near to hear. He shook his skinny yellow fist out over the broad river that crept greasily down to the equatorial sea.