Mrs. Lankhurst nodded emphatically.
“Englishmen are so safe. Now, in any other country it would be impossible——”
“Oh, quite! I imagine such a man as James Canterton——”
“The very idea is indecent. Our men are so reliable. One never bothers one’s head. Yet one has only to cross the Channel——”
“A decadent country. The women make the morals of the men. Any nation that thinks so much about dress uncovers its own nakedness.”
The multi-coloured crowd had spread itself over the whole of the broad lawn in the front of the house, for Gertrude Canterton’s garden parties were very complete affairs, claiming people from half the county. She had one of the best string bands that was to be obtained, ranged in the shade of the big sequoia. The great cedar was a kind of kiosk, and a fashionable London caterer had charge of the tea.
Lynette kept hold of Eve’s hand.
“Where is your mother, dear?”
“Do you want to see mother?”
“Of course.”