"My poor Patricia! whatever is the matter? You look thoroughly done up. Now lie down on the bed like a good girl, and I will assume my best bedside manner."
Patricia shook her head wearily, and indicating a chair by the window, seated herself upon the bed.
"I'm afraid I am rather tired," she said. "I was just going to lock myself up for the night."
"Now I'm going to cheer you up," cried Lady Tanagra. "Was there ever a more tactless way of beginning, but I've got something to tell you that is so exquisitely funny that it would cheer up an oyster, or even a radical."
"First," said Patricia, "I think I should like you to read these letters." Slowly and wearily she ripped open the three letters and handed them to Lady Tanagra, who read them through slowly and deliberately. This done, she folded each carefully, returned it to its envelope and handed them to Patricia.
"Well!" said Patricia.
Lady Tanagra smiled. Reaching across to the dressing-table she took a cigarette from Patricia's box and proceeded to light it. Patricia watched her curiously.
"I think you must have been meant for a man, Tanagra," she said after a pause. "You have the gift of silence, and nothing is more provoking to a woman."
"What do you want me to say?" enquired Lady Tanagra. "I like these cigarettes," she added.
"If you are not careful, you'll make me scream in a minute," said Patricia, with a smile. "I showed you those letters and now you don't even so much as say 'thank you.'"