Carrying his glass unsteadily, he made his way towards them.
“Brute!” said Hugh.
“Don’t take any notice of him,” said Mrs. Belmire contemptuously. “He’s always beastly when he’s in that state.”
Vulning halted.
“Excuse me. Didn’t notice you had a fellow. Never mind. We’re all pals here, ain’t we?”
He sat down unsteadily. “All pals.... Damn you!”
He had suddenly recognized Hugh, and he bent forward with a snarl like that of an angry dog.
“You bloody whipper-snapper.... Bah!”
Hugh restrained himself with difficulty, and sat tense. The frown on Mrs. Belmire’s face deepened. Vulning’s snarl gradually relaxed to a sneer. He meant mischief.
“You’re looking rippin’ to-night, Marion. ’Pon my soul I never saw you looking so stunning.”