re-entered Ellie's cool drawing-room after a late dinner at the Lido, "did Gillow think it was understood that we were going to his moor in August?" He was conscious of the oddness of speaking of their friend by his surname, and reddened at his blunder.
Susy had let her lace cloak slide to her feet, and stood before him in the faintly-lit room, slim and shimmering-white through black transparencies.
She raised her eyebrows carelessly. "I told you long ago he'd asked us there for August."
"You didn't tell me you'd accepted."
She smiled as if he had said something as simple as Fred. "I accepted everything—from everybody!"
What could he answer? It was the very principle on which their bargain had been struck. And if he were to say: "Ah, but this is different, because I'm jealous of Gillow," what light would such an answer shed on his past? The time for being jealous—if so antiquated an attitude were on any ground defensible—would have been before his marriage, and before the acceptance of the bounties which had helped to make it possible. He wondered a little now that in those days such scruples had not troubled him. His inconsistency irritated him, and increased his irritation against Gillow. "I suppose he thinks he owns us!" he grumbled inwardly.
He had thrown himself into an armchair, and Susy, advancing across the shining arabesques of
