“He’s improving. Have you ever known him to compliment a woman on her dress before?”
“Many times,” said Mrs. Fontaine, mendaciously.
“It must be your excellent training,” said Clementina. She turned to Quixtus. “I’ve seen Huckaby this morning, and everything’s quite arranged for the transportation of your necessary books and specimens down to Moleham. He’ll do it beautifully even though it takes a pantechnicon van, and you won’t be worried about it at all. He’s a splendid fellow.”
“He is rendering me invaluable assistance.”
“Dr. Quixtus tells me he is quite an old friend of yours, Mrs. Fontaine,” said Clementina. “What a pity you can’t be persuaded to come down to Moleham.”
“Are you going to have a chaperon to your rather mixed house-party?”
“I should if you would honour me by coming; my dear Mrs. Fontaine—a dowager dragon of propriety. But an Admiral of the British navy is quite safeguard enough for me.”
The hostess, coming through the edge of the crowd, carried off Quixtus. The two women were left alone. Lena Fontaine turned suddenly, white-lipped, shaking with anger.
“I’ve had enough of it. I’m not going to stand it. I’m not going to be persecuted like this any longer.”
“What will you do?”