"I am surprised at Lady Tresham," she said, smiling. "I really
don't think that I am at all properly chaperoned. This comes, I
suppose, from having acquired a character for independence."
Her gown seemed to fill the carriage - a little sea of frothy lace
and muslin. He hesitated on the pavement.
"Shall I ride outside?" he suggested. "I don't want to crush you."
She gathered up her skirt at once and made room for him. He
directed the driver and stepped in beside her.
"I hope," she said, "that your cigarette restored your spirits.
You are not going to be as dull all the evening as you were at
dinner, are you?"
He sighed a little wistfully. "I'd like to talk to you," he said
simply, "but somehow to-night... you know it was much easier when
you were a journalist from the 'Hour'."
"Well, that is what I am now," she said, laughing. "Only I can't
get away from all my old friends at once. The day after to-morrow
I shall be back at work."
"Do you mean it?" he asked incredulously.
"Of course I do! You don't suppose I find this sort of thing
particularly amusing, do you? Hasn't it ever occurred to you that
there must be a terrible sameness about people who have been
brought up amongst exactly the same surroundings and taught to
regard life from exactly the same point of view?"
"But you belong to them - you have their instincts.
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