"So facile a poet may remedy that on the instant," said Branksome. "Come, Master Rhymster, there's a kiss from the reddest lips I know waiting as payment for a stanza."
"They are kisses which are not at your disposal," answered the lady, but she looked at Fellowes.
"Gad! I believe you may have the kiss without the trouble of earning it,
Fellowes," laughed Branksome. "I can go bail for the goods."
Mistress Dearmer pouted, but the laugh was against her until Fellowes came to the rescue.
"You shall have a sonnet," he said. "You may pay if you think it worthy."
Another woman caught Sir Philip's hand and whispered, "The poetry could hardly be so bad as the kisses are cheap, could it?"
Lord Rosmore and his host had walked to the end of the terrace talking confidentially.
"I should have said more, but you came to interrupt us," Sir John replied in answer to a question from his companion.
"You can force her to do as you wish," said Rosmore. "Indeed, if necessary, you must."
"How?"