“He is in my confidence,” he replied. “Fraser is not.”
“Oh, I see. You don’t want Fraser to know about the Limehouse journey?”
“Naturally I don’t. He would talk to all the men at the garage, and from South Audley Street the tit-bit of scandal would percolate through every stratum of society.”
Rita was silent for a few moments, then:
“Were you thinking about Monte?” she asked diffidently.
Pyne laughed.
“He would scarcely approve, would he?”
“No,” replied Rita. “Was that why you were angry when I told you I was going?”
“This ‘anger,’ to which you constantly revert, had no existence outside your own imagination, Rita. But” he hesitated—“you will have to consider your position, dear, now that you are the future Mrs. Monte.” Rita felt her cheeks flush, and she did not reply immediately.
“I don’t understand you, Lucy,” she declared at last. “How odd you are.”