“Well, good-night!” said Hilary hastily. “You must run off....”

That same evening, driving with his wife back from a long, dull dinner, Hilary began:

“I've something to say to you.”

An ironic “Yes?” came from the other corner of the cab.

“There is some trouble with the little model.”

“Really!”

“This man Hughs has become infatuated with her. He has even said, I believe, that he was coming to see you.”

“What about?”

“Me.”

“And what is he going to say about you?”