So Spencer received a surprising answer. He read it without any sign of the amusement Mrs. de la Vere extracted from the situation, for Helen took care to recite the whole arrangement.
“I’m going through with this,” he growled savagely, “even if I have to drink Bower’s health—damn him!”
CHAPTER XII
THE ALLIES
Seldom, if ever, has a more strangely assorted party met at dinner than that which gathered in the Hotel Kursaal under the social wing of Mrs. de la Vere. Her husband, while being coached in essentials, was the first to discover its incongruities.
“Where Miss Wynton is concerned, you are warned off,” his wife told him dryly. “You must console yourself with Mrs. Badminton-Smythe. She will stand anything to cut out a younger and prettier woman.”
“Where do you come in, Edie?” said he; for Mrs. de la Vere’s delicate aristocratic beauty seemed to be the natural complement of her sporting style, and to-night there was a wistful charm in her face that the lively Reginald had not seen there before.