"A perfectly self-evident fact," agreed Devereux. "I can always be relied upon to do the unexpected—it's the way of all original men."
"And idiots!" Cameron added, in a perfectly audible aside.
"What kind and courteous things my friends think of me!" Devereux remarked.
"You should be very grateful!" observed Gladys.
"Grateful? I'm positively prostrated with gratitude, my dear girl. So much so that I'm afraid I have not strength to play Auction later. Moreover, Mr. Porshinger may not play on Sundays."
"Don't worry about me!" Porshinger laughed.
"I'm not worrying about you a bit—I'm worrying about our hostess. She is so thoughtless at times. An awful failing, Mr. Porshinger, an awful failing, particularly in one's hostess.—Yes—I knew you would agree with me."
"My dear man," Porshinger began, "I——"
"Don't mind him, Mr. Porshinger," Gladys interrupted. "He is a bit wild in his talk, at times—nothing dangerous, however. He just can't help it."
They all left the table together and went outside—where the coffee was served. Porshinger found himself, by intention, beside Mrs. Lorraine.