'Oh, it's no good taking your case,' she interrupted.
'Why not mine as well as another?'
'Because I told him about you long ago.'
I was not surprised. But I could not permit Lady Mickleham to laugh at me in the unconscionable manner in which she proceeded to laugh. I spread out my hands and observed blandly,—
'Why not be guided—as to the others, I mean—by your husband's example?'
'Archie's example? What's that?'
'I don't know; but you do, I suppose.'
'What do you mean, Mr. Carter?' she asked, sitting upright.
'Well, has he ever told you about Maggie Adeane?'
'I never heard of her.'
'Or Lilly Courtenay?'
'That girl!'
'Or Alice Layton?'
"The red-haired Layton!'
'Or Florence Cunliffe?'
'Who was she?'
'Or Milly Trehearne?'
'She squints, Mr. Carter.'
'Or'
'Stop, stop! What do you mean? What should he tell me?'
'Oh, I see he hasn't. Nor, I suppose, about Sylvia Fenton, or that little Delancy girl, or handsome Miss—what was her name?'
'Hold your tongue—and tell me what you mean.'
