“What next? Why, I saw the Lord Chan—”
“I daresay you did. Vulgarity will appeal to the Saints of Heaven next season if things go on as they’re going now. Come along.”
She went out of the room, walking more quickly than she usually walked, and holding herself very upright. Lord Holme followed, forming the words of his favourite song with his lips, and screwing up his eyes as if he were looking at an improper peepshow. When they were in the electric brougham, which spun along with scarcely any noise, he began:
“I say, Vi, how long’ve you known Miss Schley?”
“I don’t know. Some weeks.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I did. I said I had met her at Mrs. Wolfstein’s lunch.”
“No, but why didn’t you tell me how like you she was?”
There was complete silence in the brougham for a minute. Then Lady Holme said:
“I had no idea she was like me.”