"A man."
"A man!" She turned right round, with a sharp movement, holding the arms of her chair tightly. "Not Meyer Isaacson?"
"Isaacson! Good heavens! He never takes a holiday except in August. Dear old chap! No, this is some one not specially interesting, but not bad; only Baroudi."
Mrs. Armine's hands dropped from the arms of the chair, as she turned towards the glass.
"Baroudi!" she said, as if the name meant nothing to her. "Why do you string one up for nothing, Nigel?"
She took up a powder-puff.
"Do you mean the man on the Hohenzollern? What has he to do with us?"
Nigel crossed the room, and sat down on a chair by the side of the toilet-table, facing his wife and holding in his lap the bundle of letters and papers.
"Are you disappointed, Ruby?"
"No, because we don't need any one. But you roused my expectation, and then played a cold douche upon it, you tiresome person!"