Hilary threw up his eyes. “Nigel, don’t you understand. . Ogilvy was full of a client’s trouble in that matter, a grave and even tragic trouble. But you couldn't. And yet—he thought of the supper party where he had met Annabel Pellissier, the stories about her, his own few minutes’ whispered lovemaking! He was a self-contained young man, but his cheeks grew hot at the thought of the things which it had seemed quite natural to say to her then, but which he knew very well would have been instantly resented by the girl whom he had just left. “She contrives somehow to strike the personal note in an amazing manner. Oh! I'm in such a fluster!" Upon which, she snatched up her fan, cast a look into the glass, smoothed down her scarf, threw a soft expression into her features, and led the way into the next room, whither she was followed by her daughter and Thames Darrell. Well, this is OUR thing. He was smiling under his heavy mustache, and his head was a little on one side as he looked at her.
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