“By Jove!” said Blessington again. “I never realized that Chilcote was so tall.”
Again Eve said nothing. But silently and with a more subtle meaning she found herself echoing the words.
Until he was quite close to her, Loder did not seem to see her. Then he stopped quietly.
“I was speaking to Lakely,” he said. “He wants me to dine with him one night at Cadogan Gardens.”
But Eve was silent, waiting for him to address Blessington. She glanced at him quickly, but though their eyes met he did not catch the meaning that lay in hers. It was a difficult moment. She had known him incredibly, almost unpardonably, absent-minded, but it had invariably been when he was “suffering from nerves,” as she phrased it to herself. But to-night he was obviously in the possession of unclouded faculties. She colored slightly and glanced under her lashes at Blessington. Had the same idea struck him, she wondered? But he was studiously studying a suit of Chinese armor that stood close by in a niche of the wall.
“Bobby has been keeping me amused while you talked to Mr. Lakely,” she said, pointedly.
Directly addressed, Loder turned and looked at Blessington. “How d'you do?” he said, with doubtful cordiality. The name of Bobby conveyed nothing to him.
To his surprise, Eve looked annoyed, and Blessington's fresh-colored face deepened in tone. With a slow, uncomfortable sensation he was aware of having struck a wrong note.
There was a short, unpleasant pause. Then, more by intuition than actual sight, Blessington saw Eve's eyes turn from him to Loder, and with quick tact he saved the situation.
“How d'you do, sir?” he responded, with a smile. “I congratulate you on looking so—so uncommon well. I was just telling Mrs. Chilcote that I hold a commission for Lady Astrupp to-night. I'm a sort of scout at present—reporting on the outposts.” He spoke fast and without much meaning, but his boyish voice eased the strain.