Colonel Innes’s face took its regimental disciplinary look, and, though his eyes were aroused, his words were quiet with repression.
‘I see no reason to discuss Miss Anderson with you,’ he said. ‘She has nothing to do with what we are talking about.’
‘Oh, don’t you, really! Hasn’t she, indeed! I take it you are trying to make me believe that compromising things are said about Mr. Holmcroft and me at the Club. Well, I advise you to keep your ears open a little more, and listen to the things said about you and Madeline Anderson there. But I don’t suppose you would be in such a hurry to repeat them to HER.’
Innes turned very white, and the rigidity of his face gave place to heavy dismay. His look was that of a man upon whom misfortune had fallen out of a clear sky. For an instant he stared at his wife. When he spoke his voice was altered.
‘For God’s sake!’ he said, ‘let us have done with this pitiful wrangling. I dare say you can take care of yourself; at all events, I only meant to warn you. But now you must tell me exactly what you mean by this that you have said—this—about—’
‘The fat’s in the fire,’ was Mrs. Innes’s reflection.
‘Certainly, I’ll tell you—’
‘Don’t shout, please!’
‘I mean simply that all Simla is talking about your affair with Miss Anderson. You may imagine that because you are fifteen years older than she is things won’t be thought of, but they are, and I hear it’s been spoken about at Viceregal Lodge. I KNOW Lady Bloomfield has noticed it, for she herself mentioned it to me. I told her I hadn’t the slightest objection, and neither have I, but there’s an old proverb about people in glass houses. What are you going to do?’
Colonel Innes’s expression was certainly alarming, and he had made a step toward her that had menace in it.