“That’s quite a brain-wave, Tony,” she replied. “I won’t say no. And if you’re very good we’ll go down to the Kursaal afterwards, and I’ll let you have a little innocent flutter at the tables.” Ann had no belief in the use of too severe a curb. She felt quite sure that if Tony’s gambling propensities were bottled up too tightly, they would only break out more strongly later on—when he might chance to be in a part of the world where he could come to bigger grief financially than was possible at Montricheux. She glanced down at the watch on her wrist and, seeing that the time had slipped by more quickly than she imagined, proceeded to gather up her gloves. “I think it’s time I went back to Villa Mon Rêve, now,” she said tentatively, fearing a burst of opposition.
But, having got his own way over the arrangements for the morrow, Tony consented to be amenable for once. Together they took their way up the pleasant street and at the gates of the villa he made his farewells.
“I shall drop into the club for a rubber, I think,” he vouchsafed, “before going home like a good little boy.”
“Don’t play high,” cautioned Ann good-humouredly.
She could detect the underlying note of resentment in his voice, and she entered the house meditating thoughtfully upon the amazing short-sightedness evinced by elderly gentlemen in regard to the upbringing of their heirs.
CHAPTER II THE BRABAZONS OF LORNE
“Ann’s the best pal Tony could possibly have, so, for goodness’ sake, be content with that and don’t get addling your brains by trying to marry her off to him. Match-making isn’t a man’s job. A female child of twelve could beat the cleverest man that’s hatched at the game.”
Lady Susan Hallett fired off her remarks, as was her wont, with the vigour and precision of a machine-gun. There was always a delightful definiteness both about her ideas and the expression of them.