“Coming out to dinner, Jenny?” he said. “I’ll stand you a seat at the Tivoli if you like.”
“I’m afraid I can’t to-night, Tom,” she answered, blushing slightly. “I’ve made other arrangements.”
“What arrangements?”
“A friend has promised to take me to the theatre.”
“Who’s that?” answered the man, with an ugly look.
“That’s my business, isn’t it?” answered Jenny.
“Well, if you won’t tell me, I’m off.”
“I’m not stopping you, am I?”
“Just give me a Scotch-and-soda, will you? And look sharp about it.”
The man spoke impudently, wishing to remind Jenny that she was there to carry out his orders. Basil reddened, and with some sharpness was about to say that he would be discreet to use greater politeness, when Jenny’s eyes stopped him. Without a word she gave the clerk what he asked for, and the three of them remained silent.