“Thank you.”
She was still looking at his chest and shoulders. The expression of distress in her eyes seemed to be deepening. But a tall man, Sir John Killigrew, one of her adherents, spoke to her, and she turned to give him her complete attention.
“I’ll walk with you, if you’re going,” said Canon Wilton’s strong voice in Dion’s ear.
“That’s splendid. I’ll just say good-by to Mrs. Chetwinde.”
He found her by the tea-table with three or four men and two very smart women. As he came up one of the latter was saying:
“It’s all Lady Ermyntrude’s fault. She always hated Cynthia, and she has a heart of stone.”
The case again!
“Oh, are you going?” said Mrs. Chetwinde.
She got up and came away from the tea-table.
“D’you like Cynthia Clarke?” she asked.