They came towards her. She shook hands with them, regarding them gravely.
“How do you do?”
There was silence. Then Mr. Zanti said—“We must be goin'—longer than we ought to stop—we 'ave business—”
Peter felt rising in him a cold and surging anger at her treatment of them. These two, the best friends that he had in the world—that she should dare!
“Oh! you'll stay to dinner, you two! You must—”
“I'm afraid, ver' afraid,” Mr. Zanti said bowing very low and still looking at Clare with apologetic, troubled eyes, “we 'ave no time. Immediate business.”
Still Clare said nothing.
There was another moment's silence, and then Peter said:
“I'll come down and see you off.” Still without moving from her place she shook hands with them.
“Good-bye.”