"Was she ever in Florida?"
"Oh dear, no!"
"Of course, people are talking——"
"Might I venture to request silence?" quacked the irritated voice of Mr. Pettingham at this juncture. "It is almost impossible for me to bring my friend the Duke of Drigg's adventure in the Soko vividly before you if I do not have the kind assistance of your complete attention. Well, as I was saying, it was very evident to me that Fatimah was decidedly under the influence of haschish." He struck a bell. "Here you see Fatimah under the influence of haschish."
"These adventures of Drigg's are very uninteresting," continued the Duchess, resuming her conversation in a louder whisper. "People are talking, you know, Mr. Rodney."
"Talking—what about?"
"Oh, Mrs. Verulam and Mr. Van Adam. But I take a more charitable view. After all, she's twenty-eight."
"Oh, surely not more than twenty-seven!"
"Englishwomen always look more than their age," Mr. Ingerstall whispered violently. "It's an extraordinary thing! Now, a Parisian——"
"Twenty-eight, Mr. Rodney; and getting on towards twenty-nine. And he looks a mere boy. You have heard all about him? Did Bernard Roche ever tell you his age?"