“My accomplice in what?”
Eric turned with a smile and offered her a cigarette:
“To put it quite brutally, in concealing from your aunt what happened last night.”
“And what did happen?,” she demanded.
Eric found her effort to put him out of countenance by attempted haughtiness of tone pathetically unsuccessful.
“You went to Gaymer’s flat in Buckingham Gate. I don’t say there wasn’t any supper; I don’t even say there wasn’t a party, if three constitute a party. It was informal, however, and as much of a surprise to the host as to his guests.”
Ivy jumped up indignantly and subsided slowly in defeat.
“I don’t know what you mean!,” she cried with a last rally.
“Am I right so far?”
“How did you find out?,” she asked limply.