“Of course I do.”
“Do you ever miss anything—let anything escape you?”
“I don’t know. Well, what is it?”
“I wanted to tell you something about Lady Sellingworth which has puzzled me and a friend of mine. It is a sort of social mystery.”
“Social! Oh, Lord!”
“Now, Dick, don’t be a snob. You are a snob in your pretended hatred of all decent people.”
“D’you call your society dames decent?”
“Be quiet if you can! You’re worse than a woman.”
He did not say anything. His horsey profile looked hard and expressionless in the night. As she glanced at it she could not help thinking of Newmarket. He ought surely to have been a jockey with that face and figure.
“You are listening?”