"Well, we shall be in good company at all events!" laughed Burgoyne.
"Yes, that is the recompense," commented Pendleton. "But it riles me to go down before these contemptible crowders-out, like the two yonder."
Burgoyne did not respond immediately and Porshinger's harsh voice came floating over.
"Did you see the Lorraine episode this afternoon?" he chuckled. "She came here—actually had the audacity to come here—and she bumped into Lorraine right there on the piazza—and he gave her the frozen face hard. It was great."
"Just what Lorraine should have done," Murchison replied. "It's an infernal shame that our wives and daughters should be subjected to such effrontery. The woman has about as much idea of decency as a professional of the street—to come still warm from Amherst's arms and flaunt herself before them all. I should have thought the little shame she has left would have held her from this last atrocity."
"She's a mighty good looker all right!" the other remarked. "I don't blame Amherst—not in the least."
"Sure—she's a screamer—the tall, willowy sort—Kipling's vampire kind, you know the style?" Porshinger laughed. "I wonder who will be the next one. I should not much mind taking a flyer at her myself."
Pendleton pushed back his chair sharply and got up.
"Come along," he said to Burgoyne. "I may need your help."
He drew out his gloves and crossed the piazza to the two men.