For a second he touched her dried, withered hand—how cold it was! and in this hot weather, too.
"You'll ask her at Julia Massiter's next week?"
"Expect so—I say you are——"
Then he sat down again. The room was relieved of an immense burden; once more they were at ease together.
"The other night—" he said, bending forward and chuckling ever so little.
III
Lady Carloes, Agnes Lady Farnet, and old Mrs. Brunning were coming to play bridge with her. The ceremonial was ever the same! They arrived at half-past nine and at half-past eleven supper for four was served in the Duchess's little green room, behind her bedroom (a little room like a box with a green wall-paper, a card-table and silver candlesticks). They played, sometimes, until three or four o'clock in the morning; the Duchess played an exceedingly good game and Mrs. Brunning (a bony little woman like a plucked chicken) was the best bridge player in London. The other two were moderate, but made mistakes which allowed the Duchess the free use of her most caustic wit and satire.
Lord John came just before dinner as he always did for a few minutes every evening. He stood there, fat and smiling and amiable and, as always, a little nervous.
"Well, John?"