‘My dear!’ she exclaimed, ‘how delightful you look, and what a perfectly lovely room! I have seen it often before, of course, and yet it seems to me always lovelier! And you, too!—what a _sweet_ gown! Oh, my dear, I have such fun to tell you; I know you didn’t expect to see me! I got away from the Riviera much sooner than I thought I should. All my money went at Monte Carlo in the most frightfully rapid way, and so I came back to town—one can have larks in town as well as anywhere else, without the temptation of that dear, wicked, fascinating Casino! And, my dear, nothing is talked of but your book; everybody’s waiting for it with the greatest impatience—it’s finished, isn’t it? In the hands of the publishers! How delightful! And, of course, you have got loads of money for it? How nice for you, and for that glorious-looking husband of yours! And you are looking so well! No tea, dearest, thank you! Oh, I really must take off my cloak a moment—thanks! Is there anyone else coming to-day? Oh, of course, you always have _crowds_! That is why I want to tell you what fun we had last night; Lord Carlyon never expected we should see him, you know!’ Delicia looked up from the tea tray whither she had moved on the impulse of hospitality. She had not spoken; she knew Mrs Lefroy of old, and was aware that it was better to let her have her talk out. ‘Of course,’ went on Mrs Lefroy, ‘you have heard of Marina, the new dancer—the girl who appears on the stage like a hooded cobra, and gradually winds herself out of her serpent-skin into a woman with scarcely any clothes on, and dances about among a lot of little snakes of fire, done with electricity? The one that all the men are going mad over, on account of her wonderful legs?’ Delicia, with a slight movement, more of regret than offence, nodded. ‘Well, we were having supper at the Savoy last night, and what do you think, my dear!’ And here Mrs Lefroy clasped her well-gloved hands together in a kind of slander-mongering ecstasy. ‘Who should come in and sit down at the very next table, but Lord Carlyon and this very Marina!’ Delicia turned round slowly, her eyes shining, and a smile on her mouth. ‘Well?’ she said. Mrs Lefroy’s nose reddened through the powder, and she tossed her head. ‘Well? Is that all you say—well? I should certainly find some more forcible observation than that, if I heard of _my_ husband taking the Marina to supper at the Savoy!’ ‘Would you?’ said Delicia, smiling. ‘But then, you see, I am not you, and your husband is not my husband. There’s all the difference! Besides, men are free to amuse themselves in their own way, provided they wrong no one by doing so.’ ‘With “creatures” like Marina?’ inquired Mrs Lefroy, with a wide smile. ‘Really, my dear, you are extremely tolerant! Do you know that even Paul Valdis, an actor—and you wouldn’t think he was particular—would not be seen with the Cobra person!’