And Rodney West, his sharp and legal face more than ever sharp and legal at this smooth buccaneering and smooth surrendering, continued his now solitary way down the crowded stairs. Interruptions did not intrude upon him, not even in the most crowded places. He was a man set apart, the little smile that was crucified on his thin, handsome face set him apart, and rather grimly. Rodney West was one of those “darkish men with intelligent gestures” who are attractive to connoisseurs among women. It was Mrs. Gray who had so described him—and herself.
2
Dancing, Ivor thought, must be altogether a winter-sport, for it’s certainly too hot for it now. And eventually, after a glance into the ballroom, where he could not see Trevor and partner, he came upon the bunch of young people who centred mainly round Lois Lamprey and Virginia Tracy: both young and cool and remote, and ever so faintly contemptuous of those whom their carelessness about things might shock. They were so untouchable by people to whom they were indifferent—people are “awful,” they said—that their amorous reputations amazed one. (It amazed them, too. It was so untrue, really.) Lady Lois Lamprey was in particularly good looks to-night, in a Byzantine sort of dress of beaten gold that vividly brought out the sheen of her dark silken hair, coils and coils of dark silken hair, like a lustrous black decoration for the white oval of her face and the curiously blue weapons which were given to her for eyes. And Virginia Tracy, golden-white Virginia, her small face as grave as a Persian kitten’s—for she was very young and resented things—was dressed severely in black....
“So that,” she said surprisingly, viciously, to Ivor, who had just come upon them and remarked upon its dark severity, “I can dance with you, black Ivor Marlay, if you should happen to ask me.”
That swift, breathless little voice of Virginia’s—so pregnant, somehow!
“Virginia has got a crise,” Lois Lamprey commented into some one’s ear, very softly. Lois always commented on Virginia like that, very softly, and without emotion. Lois gave it to be clearly understood that she kept emotion for emotional moments. Watch the Lady Lois! For she will be a power in the land, in the land where she is already a legend, by reason of her great beauty, her birth, her wit, her various talents, and the facility for dexterous publicity which has always been vouchsafed to the Lamprey women. She will be the contriver of her own destiny, so watch her, it will be quite interesting. There is no snob like the well-born snob: Mr. E. F. Benson said that, and he knows about those things. The Lady Lois will get on, but not obviously, she will climb to the ultimate pinnacles of the world’s last aristocracy. Men will call her an allumeuse, but men give many different names to their disappointments. She will have no enemies, but most of her friends will dislike her. Only two weaknesses has Lady Lois of the silken black hair and the curious eyes that seem to see things a long way off and to laugh at things close-to—she is mean with money, and she is partial to a glass or so of wine between meals. But her complexion can stand that, for a thing to wonder at is her complexion. “Ah, ce type anglais!” Nothing in the world can beat it, even though it does sometimes dress atrociously.... Now Virginia was quite, quite different from Lois; though people didn’t realise that for quite a long time.
There was antagonism between Virginia Tracy and Ivor Marlay. There always is antagonism between some one and some one else at a party of the intimate sort. In this case it had something to do with Virginia’s lack of manners and Ivor’s lack of servility, but how were they to know that?
“I’ve asked you to dance so often, and so often been snubbed,” Ivor said, rather too quietly maybe. The formality, the “rightness,” of his manner always irritated Virginia into an impatient shrug. And, in this mood of hers, her blue eyes glittered just a little, dangerously.
Now in the furrow of Virginia Tracy’s little chin, and an inconsiderable little chin it was for a beautiful young lady, lay a tiny brown spot, which Ivor sometimes found very irritating....
It was as though the room seemed suddenly to be going rotten with silence. No one quite knew why—and Virginia and Ivor were the most nonchalant among them. The silence was made more than ever tangible by one Kerrison saying:—