“No, thank you! Comforting other men’s wives isn’t in my line,” he told her. “And I wouldn’t make my eyes red, if I were you, to excite comment.”
Phyllis, noting by the unsympathetic tone of her companion’s voice that her tears were unavailing, dried her eyes instantly.
It was quite true, red eyes would excite comment. Moreover (and this was far more important), her appearance would suffer.
“What about to-night?” she asked, after an interval in which they had silently walked on.
“You and your father dine with me at the ‘Albany,’” he answered coldly.
“Now?” she inquired incredulously.
“Why not?” he answered.
It was quite clear to Phyllis now that Langridge had no idea of playing the doleful rejected lover. He would just blot out this afternoon’s episode, and go on as if it had never occurred.
That was precisely what Langridge intended to do.