(Only a question of time it is when he will be
had heavily for damages due to his reckless driving.)
His lordship bustled in with a cheerfulness that staggered me. He,
too, was gay; almost debonair. A gardenia was in his lapel. He was
vogue to the last detail in a form-fitting gray morning-suit that had
all the style essentials. Almost it seemed as if three valets had been
needed to groom him. He briskly rubbed his hands.
"Biggest table--people. Tea, that sort of thing. Have a go of
champagne, too, what, what! Beard off, much younger appearing? Of
course, course! Trust women, those matters. Tea cake, toast, crumpets,
marmalade--things like that. Plenty champagne! Not happen every day!
Ha! ha!"
To my acute distress he here thumbed me in the ribs and laughed again.
Was he, too, I wondered, madly resolved to be a dead sportsman in the
face of the unavoidable? I sought to edge in a discreet word of
condolence, for I knew that between us there need be no pretence.
"I know you did your best, sir," I observed. "And I was never quite
free of a fear that the woman would prove too many for us. I trust the
Honourable George----"
But I had said as much as he would let me. He interrupted me with his
thumb again, and on his face was what in a lesser person I should
unhesitatingly have called a leer.
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