For Kitty had not moved an inch to greet him. She sat in a high-back chair, one foot crossed over the other, one hand supporting her cheek, looking straight before her with shining eyes.
Lady Tranmore laid a hand on her shoulder.
"We won't talk any more about it now, Kitty, will we?"
Kitty's pinched lips opened enough to emit the words:
"Perhaps William had better understand—"
"Goodness!" cried Ashe. "Is it the Parhams? Send them, Kitty, if you please, to ten thousand diables! You won't go to their dinner? Well, don't go! Please yourself—and hang the expense! Come and give me some dinner—there's a dear."
He bent over her and kissed her hair.
Lady Tranmore began to speak; then, with a mighty effort, restrained herself and began to look for her parasol. Kitty did not move. Lady Tranmore said a muffled good-bye and went. And this time Margaret French insisted on going with her.
When Ashe returned to the drawing-room, he found his wife still in the same position, very pale and very wild.