“Because you are sitting next to Lucifer,” he said. “It's kind of me to warn you, isn't it?”
“It wasn't necessary,” replied Honora. “And besides, as a dinner companion, I imagine Lucifer couldn't be improved on.”
He laughed again.
“As a dinner companion!” he repeated. “So you would limit Lucifer to dinners? That's rather a severe punishment, since we're neighbours.”
“How delightful to have Lucifer as one's neighbour,” said Honora, avoiding his eyes. “Of course I've been brought up to believe that he was always next door, so to speak, but I've never—had any proof of it until now.”
“Proof!” echoed Mr. Brent. “Has my reputation gone before me?”
“I smell the brimstone,” said Honora.
He derived, apparently, infinite amusement from this remark likewise.
“If I had known I was to have the honour of sitting here, I should have used another perfume,” he replied. “I have several.”
It was Honora's turn to laugh.