“Mr. Deganway told me,” she pursued, “that, when she was sixteen, a man blew his brains out, because she would not marry him. He says that, ever since, she has expected it of all the others.”
“The first part of the story’s probably untrue; the second certainly is,” Eric answered curtly. “I know her very well, Madame Pinto. She’s always been rather unconventional, she’s always been greatly admired and very much in the public eye. The result is that no story is too fantastic to be believed about her by people who don’t know her. Deganway does; and he’s no business to talk such nonsense... I used to see a great deal of Lady Barbara before her marriage; I look back on her friendship as one of the greatest achievements of my life. Steele said of Lady Elizabeth Hastings that to love her was a liberal education; I should like to think that my friendship meant half as much to any one.... Do you know Carstairs well? He’s in the Diplomatic, and I believe he was out in Rio once....”
The abrupt transition from low-voiced, tense earnestness to a conversational drawl convinced even Madame Pinto that he was forcibly dismissing Barbara from discussion.
“Have I said something dreadful?,” she asked with an unabashed smile.
“Didn’t I tell you that you could say anything you liked to me?,” he laughed. “Political, racial, religious? I only draw the line at something personal, when it concerns a friend of mine and doesn’t happen to be true. Deganway ought to know better.”
As he turned to Ivy, Eric glanced involuntarily past her and was in time to see Barbara looking quickly away. She, then, had heard, too. And probably half a dozen more on either side, but they did not matter. He wondered whether she would try to speak to him after dinner. She would love the dramatic sense of humility in thanking him for his defence....
“I sent my mother a line before dinner to fix up about the week-end,” Eric announced at random. “I forget if I warned you that my father had a serious illness last autumn....”
His family and home provided a subject for discussion with Ivy until the end of dinner. While Madam Pinto was talking, it seemed as though they were rivetted to their chairs through all eternity; as soon as he was set free, their plates were snatched away almost before they could see what had been placed before them. Lulled by the drone of his own voice, Eric roused with a start to hear the Duchess of Ross asking her son whether he had room for her in his car, as she had to be at another party by eleven. One or two of the men looked at their watches; chairs were pushed back and heads dived under the table in search of gloves and bags. Barbara stood up and took in the room at a glance; and Eric felt that her personality spread through the air like a wave of electricity. Ivy was talking to Lady Maitland, Madame Pinto was receiving thanks and showering adieux on her guests; alone and apart, he was too far from any one to take cover.
Barbara began to draw on her gloves and walked slowly towards the door. As she came opposite him, she turned almost in afterthought, looking up for an instant before concentrating afresh on the buttons of her glove.
“It was nice of you to stand up for me against that odious woman, Eric,” she whispered.