“Chiozzi?”
“Guess again.”
“Noel, you know I hate these guessing games. Freeman? Oh, no, he’s dead. It was some one to do with Connie, I suppose. Petrovitch, then?”
“No other. The dirty dog!”
“The plot thickens!” exclaimed Judy. “What happened then?”
“Connie saw him, and nearly swooned for joy. And then if you please, the great brute saw her and beckoned. Beckoned, do you hear? And she’d have gone to him if I’d let her.”
“How beastly!”
“I talked to her gently but firmly, but she was up in the air. We got through lunch somehow, and then I tried to persuade her to get out before he could speak to her. But she wouldn’t budge. He didn’t move either until he’d almost finished feeding. Then he came to our table. I wish you could have seen Connie registering soulfulness. I can tell you, a close-up of both of them would have been pleasing to a screen audience. After twenty years the villain sees the heroine again. Tableau!”
“Yes. Well, go on.”
“We exchanged a pleasantry or two, and then he commanded Connie to dine with him to-night. Connie of course was writhing on the mat for pure joy, and barking short, happy barks. She licked his hand and meekly indicated that his lightest wish was her law. Then we went. I wasn’t feeling full of love for human nature by that time, I can tell you. I didn’t know what to do, so I rang up Claire and she advised me to issue an ultimatum. Which I did. I said that if she spoke to Petrovitch again, all was over between us. Sob stuff from Connie. I really was sorry for her. In the end I told her to sleep on it, and to ring me up in the morning. Then I left her. Do you think I did right?”