"We supply all the pictures for 'The World and His Wife'," he explained. "They 'phoned through to know if we could let them have up-to-date photographs of you and Lady Barbara Neave——"
"But you spoke of an engagement."
"Isn't it true, then?"
"This sort of thing is really intolerable!" Eric cried. "I don't want to tell other people how to run their business, but in common decency your firm might wait for an official announcement in 'The Times' instead of circulating these rumours——"
"It's only a rumour, then?" said the interviewer blankly, pocketing his note-book.
As he walked to Berkeley Square, Eric decided that, by telling Barbara of his encounter, he would annoy her without bringing relief to himself. The announcement, when it came, would be made with imposing ceremony after a meeting between his father and Lord Crawleigh, an adjustment of religious differences and a distressingly material discussion of settlements. There would be ponderous debates and irritating disagreements; Barbara and he both needed a respite for recuperation.…
"I telephoned three times this morning," said Eric, as he was shewn into the drawing-room. "I did so want to talk to you! I was so happy I couldn't sleep."
"I couldn't sleep, either," said Barbara huskily, holding out one hand and covering her eyes with the other.
"Aren't you going to kiss me?"
"If you like. It's your right now."