"Why aren't you dancing, you young men?—Want some partners? Let's see your cards."
Thesiger stared at him with open disgust.
"No—er—thanks." He turned to his friend as the thick-set man bustled away downstairs, mopping his brow with a large silk handkerchief.
"Who's that bounder?"
"Sh ... I—it's the host."
"Good Lord!—that?" he frowned impatiently—"I can't see Susan—I've a great mind to cut it!"
"Better wait for supper," Merivale suggested. "Look here"—he added—"if you're not already booked we'll have it together."
"Righto!—and then you come on with me—for a game of 'Chemmy,' eh?—I feel in luck to-night."
"Well ... we'll see. How's Mrs. Merrod?" His dark eyes twinkled as he watched Thesiger's face.
"The fair Fantine?—oh—goin' pretty strong ... How are you, McTaggart——?" He broke off to greet a couple approaching.