"She's had a bath. Suzanne's done her hair. She's in bed, so sleepy that I left Suzanne with her to keep her from spilling her bouillon and toast before she's finished it. Oh, George, she's a ripper—perfectly lovely, without all those horrid clothes."
George took his cigar from his mouth.
"I shouldn't wonder," he said.
Lady Elizabeth ignored the interruption.
"And I believe she's Dick's," she went on. "Who is this Professor Caldegard?"
"Scientific—coal-tar—big bug of the first magnitude," answered Bruffin. "Some day he'll synthesize albumen, and then all the farmers'll go into the workhouse."
"But are they—what sort of people are they? It's Dick, George."
"You've seen the girl, Betsy."
"Yes," admitted Lady Elizabeth.
"And when you catch Dick Bellamy making a break over a man, a horse, a dog or a woman, Bet, p'r'aps you'll let me know."