'
'What shall you wear, Mrs Ottley?'
'Oh, I thought, perhaps, my mauve chiffon? What do you advise?' she
smiled.
'Not what you wore last night?'
'Oh no.'
'It was very jolly. I liked it. Er--red, wasn't it?'
'Oh no! It was pink!' she answered.
Then there was an extraordinary pause, in which neither of them seemed
able to think of anything to say. There was a curious sort of vibration
in the air.
'Isn't it getting quite springy?' said Edith, as she glanced at the
window. 'It's one of those sort of warm days that seem to have got
mixed up by mistake with the winter.'
'Very,' was his reply, which was not very relevant.
Another pause was beginning.
'Mr Vincy,' announced the servant.
He was received with enthusiasm, and Aylmer Ross now recovered his ease
and soon went away.
'Edith!' said Vincy, in a reproving tone. '_Really_! How _very_ soon!'
'He came to know what time we dine. He was just passing.'
'Oh, yes. He would want to know. He lives in Jermyn Street. I
suppose Knightsbridge is on his way to there.'
'From where?' she asked.
'From here,' said Vincy.
'What happened after we left?' said Edith. 'I saw the Cricker man
beginning to dance with hardly anyone looking at him.'
'Isn't his imitation of Nijinsky wonderful?' asked Vincy.
'Simply marvellous! I thought he was imitating George Grossmith. Do you
know, I love the Mitchells, Vincy. It's really great fun there.
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