"A little bit of all right. Frightfully fascinating, as girls say," said Nigel.
"Isn't he? I've seen the pictures. But what _is_ he like? The sort of chap you'd like to be seen with?" asked the young man.
"But is he really an Italian?" asked Charlie.
"Shouldn't think so," said Nigel carelessly.
"Very likely, if he's clever. They say all the clever people come from Scotland," Charlie remarked.
"And the cleverer they are, the sooner they come, I suppose," said Bertha. "Fancy the MacFuturist in a kilt!"
"But where does he come from ... where does he really live?" continued Charlie, who seemed to have a special, suspicious curiosity on the subject.
"The first turning to the left on the map as you go to Monte Carlo," said Nigel.
"But what _did_ he say--was he very odd and peculiar?"
"Oh, he carried on like one o'clock about Futurism," said Bertha.
"I thought every moment would be my next," said Nigel.
"What nonsense you're both talking," said Bertha.
"Yes, and if Charlie thinks he's going to sit me out by asking questions, he's jolly well mistaken," Nigel said. "Look here, old chap, Bertha's going out. I know she wants to get into her glad raiment. I'll drop you."
They took their leave. Bertha looked amused.
Arrangements had been made that Mrs. Nigel Hillier was to have a little dinner at home for her mother (with whom Nigel was not supposed to be on terms); and she and her parent were to go to the St. James's Theatre, for which two stalls had been purchased. Nigel pretended he was dining with an old friend at the club.
Coming in brightly, but, as usual, losing half his personality in the hall, he found Mary at seven o'clock sitting in the little boudoir, in the usual arm-chair, looking our for him, not, apparently, thinking of dressing for dinner.
"Hallo, Mary!" he said. "Hadn't you better get ready for your mother?"
"No," she responded rather coldly and bitingly, "I've put mother off."
He glanced at her with self-control. She looked, he thought, far more bitter than usual.
"That's a pity, because you will be alone--dear. Besides, the stalls will be wasted."
"No, they won't," she said. "You'll stay at home with me, and take me to the St. James's. You can easily put off your man at the club." She looked him full in the eyes.