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"Thanks, awfully!" he answered, taking out a cigarette and lighting it
leisurely. "You are really charmingly candid, Clara! Almost as frank as
Lady Errington, only less polite!"
"I shall not learn politeness from _you_, at any rate," she said,--then
altering her tone to one of studied indifference, she continued coldly,
"What do you want of me? We've done with each other, as you know. I
believe you wish to become gentleman-lacquey to Bruce-Errington's wife,
and that you find it difficult to obtain the situation. Shall I give you
a character?"
He flushed darkly, and his eyes glittered with an evil lustre.
"Gently, Clara! Draw it mild!" he said languidly. "Don't irritate me, or
I _may_ turn crusty! You know, if I chose, I could open
Bruce-Errington's eyes rather more widely than you'd like with respect
to the _devoted affection_ you entertain for his beautiful wife." She
winced a little at this observation--he saw it and laughed,--then
resumed: "At present I'm really in the best of humors.


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