"I know where you're going! It's Madame d'Estrées' evening."
"Well—you don't object?"
"Object?" She shrugged her shoulders. "So long as it amuses you—You won't find one woman there to-night."
"Last time there were two," he said, smiling, as he rose from the sofa.
"I know—Lady Quantock—and Mrs. Mallory. Now they've deserted her, I hear. What fresh gossip has turned up I don't know. Of course," she sighed, "I've been out of the world. But I believe there have been developments."
"Well, I don't know anything about it—and I don't think I want to know. She's very agreeable, and one meets everybody there."
"Everybody. Ungallant creature!" she said, giving a little pull to his collar, the set of which did not please her.
"Sorry! Mother!"—his laughing eyes pursued her—"Do you want to marry me off directly?—I know you do!"
"I want nothing but what you yourself should want. Of course, you must marry."
"The young women don't care twopence about me!"