“What about?”
“Take care of that carriage in front—love.”
He looked at her sideways.
“You’re the one to sing about that,” he said.
She felt that he was admiring her beauty as if it were new to him. She did not care.
At last they reached Manchester House. Fritz’s place was taken by his chauffeur, and they got out. The crowd was enormous. Many people recognised Lady Holme and greeted her. Others, who did not know her personally, looked at her with open curiosity. A powdered footman came to show her to the improvised artists’ room. Fritz prepared to follow.
“Aren’t you going into the concert-room?” she said.
“Presently.”
“But—”
“I’ll take you up first.”