“Mr. Higgins says he won’t come here till your husband’s taken himself off, my dear. He says he knows where he’s not wanted, and I don’t blame him, either.”
“Oh, Annie, what nonsense!” cried Mrs. Kent, “Basil was only tired.”
“Yes, a journey to Brighton’s very tiring, isn’t it? I tell you straight, Basil, I expect my friends to be treated like gentlemen.”
“You’re an amiable creature, Annie,” he answered, shrugging his shoulders.
After supper Annie waited somewhat impatiently till the servant came in to say that Mr. Higgins was at the door; then hurriedly put on her hat. Basil hesitated for one moment, unwilling to give offence, but decided that some word of warning was necessary.
“I say, Annie, d’you think you ought to go out alone at night with a man you’ve picked up casually on the pier?”
“What I do is no business of yours, is it?” she answered angrily. “I’d thank you to give me your advice when I ask for it.”
“Shall I come with you, Annie?” said her sister.
“Now, don’t you interfere. I can look after myself, as you know very well.”
She went out, vindictively slamming the door, and Basil, without another word, a frown on his brow, returned to his book. But in a little while he heard that Jenny was crying very quietly.