“The latest? What do you mean?”
“Dear me,” he exclaimed, smiling. “Why, we country cousins know more than you men about town after all, sometimes. She’s at Monte Carlo.”
“At Monte? Vera Thorold!”
“Yes.”
“What is she doing there? Who is with her?”
“I don’t know who’s with her, or if any one is with her. She is pretty independent, as you know, and well able to take care of herself—a typical twentieth century girl.”
“But who told you she was at Monte?”
“Several people. Ah! there’s Lord Logan! He’ll tell us. He was speaking of her yesterday. He returned from the Riviera only a couple of days ago.”