“I believe you are just as bad as you pretend to be,” she declared.
“Do I disappoint you?” he demanded.
“Of course,” she laughed, “I shall have to reform you. I am very good at reforming fascinating man-devils like you. You must come and have tea with me one afternoon.”
“What afternoon?” he asked.
“To-morrow,” she said, “at four.”
If she had guessed with what repulsion she had inspired Trent she would have been startled. She was a type he detested.
Later he said:
“Isn’t it unwise of you to wear such a gorgeous necklace at a mixed gathering like this?”
“If it were real it would be,” she answered. “Don’t tell any one,” she commanded, “but this is only an imitation. The real one is on my dressing table. This was made in the Rue de la Paix for me and only an expert could tell the difference and then he’d have to know his business.”
“What are you frowning at?” he demanded when he saw her gaze directed toward a rather noisy group of newcomers.