“Certainly,” he said stiffly.
“Does he hate me?” she thought, with a sinking of despair. He went to fetch her wrap. They met in the hall.
“Where are you two going?”
Dindie Ackroyde’s all-seeing eyes had perceived them.
“Only to get a breath of air in the garden,” said Lady Sellingworth.
“How sensible!”
She gave them a watchful smile and spoke to Eve Colton, who was hunting for the right kind of bridge, stick in hand.
“I’ll find Melville for you. Jennie and Sir Arthur are waiting in the card-room.”
“I hope you don’t mind coming out for a moment?”
Lady Sellingworth’s unconquerable diffidence was persecuting her. She spoke almost with timidity to Craven on the doorstep.