“I’m so glad Lady Barbara’s here,” said Ivy, as they secured a car to themselves.
“She always makes a house-party go with a swing,” answered Eric. “I say, Ivy, if Gaymer gives you any trouble, let me know. I don’t suppose he will... But, as a matter of fact, does he quite appreciate how he stands? The last time you and he were together, you were engaged to him. Have you ever broken off the engagement?”
“Not in words. Except for a moment at Maidenhead, I haven’t spoken or written to him since that night. And I don’t want to now. I never want to see him again. If he tried to talk to me—”
“You never told him why you wanted to be married without waiting for him to be demobilized?”
Ivy’s cheeks flamed, and she turned her head so that he should not see her face.
“With that woman there, in the next room?,” she cried. “I wasn’t going to beg for mercy. I left it to his honour... And then I told him he hadn’t any honour. And he said that, if that was what I thought of him—”
“Then he still doesn’t know?” Eric persisted. “If he comes and makes a nuisance of himself, are you going to tell him?”
Ivy shook her head passionately:
“No! D’you think I’d look at him, if he begged me to? He shall see that I don’t need him...” She turned suddenly with a look of pleading in her eyes. “Eric, you won’t make me tell him?”
“Of course not! Keep out of his way as much as possible and tell him that you simply don’t want to talk to him. Don’t make a scene, because he’s probably more experienced in scene-making than you are.”