She extended a slim white hand and wrist, and Tony having implanted a kiss on the latter, seated himself comfortably on the end of the bed.
"I am not seriously annoyed, Molly," he replied. "I find that my naturally Calvinistic principles are becoming broader as I get older." He looked at her with an approving glance. "Besides," he went on, "at one time it was all the fashion to receive distinguished visitors in bed. Madame du Barry—a very highly connected French lady—made a hobby of it."
"Did she—the saucy puss!" said Molly. She pushed across a tortoise shell cigarette case that was lying on the silk coverlet in front of her. "You can light up if you like," she added. "I am going to have one myself in a minute."
Tony took advantage of her permission, and leaning back against the brass rail blew out a little spiral of grey smoke.
"I came at this indelicate hour," he observed, "because I promised I would look round directly I had anything to tell you."
Molly sat up in bed. "Oh," she exclaimed eagerly, "have you heard from that friend of yours—the one in Portriga?"
Tony shook his head. "Not yet; there hasn't been time." He paused. "I don't know that it's altogether necessary to go to Portriga for news though. One seems to be able to pick up a certain amount of Livadian gossip in London."
Molly put down her cup of chocolate on the tray beside her. "Tony," she said, "what have you heard?"
"It's a long and poignant story," said Tony. "Are you in any hurry to get up?"
"Do I look like it?" She reached across the bed for the cigarette case. "Wait a moment till I've got a light; then I shan't interrupt you."