And then——
“Hallo, Virginia! Ready already!”
And Ivor, whose back was to the door as he half-sat against the edge of the table, screwed his head round....
“I’ve been ready for some time,” Virginia strangely told her husband, not coming into the room. Ivor turned his head away.
“It would be nice of you,” she added, in that way she had of saying things as though she wasn’t there, “to give the man a hand with the luggage across the garden to the car. I seem to have rather a lot of luggage. Would you, please?”
“I can do it,” Ivor said quickly: but a hand fell lightly on his maimed shoulder.
“Don’t you worry, Marlay. I’m the backbone of Pimlico, I am.” And Tarlyon lounged by Ivor without a glance, an immensely unperturbed man. Virginia stood aside and let him pass through the doorway, and, without glancing after him, came swiftly across the room to Ivor, whose back was still to her. In his slack position against the table her eyes were level with his.
“You shouldn’t have asked him to do that,” he said furiously.
“I heard,” she told him.
“Well, you shouldn’t have heard,” Ivor said sharply.