“You will be angry, very angry, I fear.” She spoke timidly. His manner told her she had good grounds for fear. His mouth hardened, but he still spoke politely and pleasantly.
“My dear girl, don’t discount my displeasure; tell me who it is?”
“His name is Gerald Leigh.”
“A pretty name, and one which sounds familiar to me. Now, who is Gerald Leigh?”
“He is a sculptor.”
“Ah! now I know. Son of that excellent old tenant of my father’s. The genius he discovered on a dungheap. Eugenia, are you quite mad?”
“He will be a famous man some day.”
Herbert shrugged his shoulders in a peculiarly irritating way.
“Let him be as famous as he likes. What does it matter?”