queer, and a lovely actress, and an awfully jolly American girl.”
“I should love to come,” said Susie, with an appealing look at Arthur, “if only to show you how much more amusing I am than lovely actresses.”
Arthur, forcing himself to smile, accepted the invitation. The specialist patted him cheerily on the back, and they agreed to meet at the Savoy.
“It’s awfully good of you to come,” said Susie, as they drove along. “Do you know, I’ve never been there in my life, and I’m palpitating with excitement.”
“What a selfish brute I was to refuse!” he answered.
When Susie came out of the dressing-room, she found Arthur waiting for her. She was in the best of spirits.
“Now you must say you like my frock. I’ve seen six women turn green with envy at the sight of it. They think I must be French, and they’re sure I’m not respectable.”
“That is evidently a great compliment,” he smiled.
At that moment Arbuthnot came up to them in his eager way and seized their arms.
“Come along. We’re waiting for you. I’ll just introduce you all round, and then we’ll go in to supper.”
They walked down the steps into the foyer, and he led them to a group of people. They found themselves face to face with Oliver Haddo and Margaret.
“Mr. Arthur Burdon—Mrs. Haddo. Mr. Burdon
