Mrs. Castillyon felt for her pocket; then, throwing back her head, gave a little shriek of laughter.
“What’s the matter?”
“I’ve forgotten my purse. You’ll have to pay, after all. D’you mind?”
“Fortunately the mater gave me a fiver this morning,” he answered, without enthusiasm, and when he doled out the shining sovereigns, added to himself: “By Jove, I’ll punish her for this some time.”
Arriving at the theatre, they found Lady Paperleigh was not yet come and since they did not know the number of her box, were obliged to wait in the entrance. They waited for nearly half an hour, during which Mrs. Castillyon grew every moment more peevish.
“It’s perfectly disgusting and awfully rude of her,” she cried for the tenth time. “I wish I hadn’t come, and I wish to goodness you wouldn’t stand there looking bored. Can’t you say something to amuse me?”
“I should have thought you could wait for a few minutes without getting into a beastly temper.”
“I shall take care to serve that woman as she has served me. I suppose she’s eating somewhere with her wretched man. Why don’t you pay for the box so that we can go in?”
“Why should I? They’ve asked us, and we must hang about till they choose to turn up.”
“If you cared for me the least bit, you wouldn’t refuse to do things I asked you.”