He was really rather glad to see her. It was dusk out there on the sea front, and Mrs. Heriot always looked her best in a half-light, as do most women who take the tint of their hair and complexion out of a box.
She was dressed in black, too. It suited her admirably, and there was a fluffy white fur round her throat and shoulders which rather appealed to Chris.
Feathers had knocked a corner off his complacency, and he was just in a mood to accept the soothing flattery which Mrs. Heriot knew to a nicety how to administer.
"I've never seen you look so cross before," she challenged him. "What is the matter and where is Mrs. Lawless?"
"She's gone to a concert."
"Oh, yes, with Mr. Dakers! I saw them going along the road together Just now." She paused. "You don't care for music, I suppose?"
"Not particularly."
"Neither do I. I don't think people who are very keen on games are ever fond of music and artistic things like that, do you?"
"Perhaps not," he agreed.
She drew the feathery wrap closer round her throat.