"Now, auntie, come along. Au revoir, Esmé. Good-bye, Lord Gerald. See you some time next week—to luncheon on Sunday if there's no other attraction."
Something fell with a little clatter on the pavement. Sir Cyril stooped and picked it up.
"You've dropped this," he said to his wife.
It was a pear-shaped pink pearl set with tiny diamonds, a valuable toy.
Denise took it from him, hesitating.
"A pretty thing," said Blakeney, quietly. "Be more careful of it, Denise."
"Sit and smoke a cigarette with me," Esmé heard Gore Helmsley's caressing voice close to her, "in my club. And look here—I've a lovely scheme—listen!"
The scheme was unrolled simply. As Carteret would be away, Esmé must come to Leicestershire for a few days in the winter. He had a lodge there; she could get another girl to come.
"I'll lend you horses," said Jimmie. "You'd sell them for me with your riding. Brutally frank, ain't I, but you know I must keep going. Come for a month."
Another month's hunting after Christmas; the fun of staying with three men. Four or five days a week on perfect mounts. Bridge in the evenings; the planning of tea-gowns, the airing of new habits.