"Much obliged," said the latter. And, turning to de Lussac, she added, "Well, I never! She wants to dismiss me. Did you ever hear such cheek? Much obliged, but I'm starving hungry. I'm off to the buffet—your arm, Georges."
She went down with de Lussac.
Lorimer began to be seriously concerned about Dora. She was pale as death, and seemed every now and then on the point of fainting. She had been going through tortures, but the thing which had dealt her a terrible blow was a scrap of conversation, which she had just heard as she passed through the drawing-room.
"It happens every day, and in the best society," said a man whom she did not recognise. "One constantly sees a man making use of his wife's attractions to further his own ends. It is called diplomacy."
"In such cases the wife is often an innocent agent."
"That is true, but the husband is none the less reprehensible for that," added a third voice.
Of whom had they been speaking? There was a singing in her ears. Great Heaven! was it of her? She closed her eyes and thought she was going to lose consciousness.
Lorimer took it upon him to go to Philip and tell him that Dora was tired and unwell, and that it would perhaps be unwise to expose her to any more fatigue that evening.
"Thanks, dear old fellow," said Philip, "it will be all over in an hour or less; we are going to supper in a moment."
Lorimer had found Philip engaged in describing his shell to Sabaroff.