“You are the only person in the world,” Salvières observed, “who could make one feel like laughing at such a catastrophe. What in the name of all common sense induces you to pity Wynne?”
“Why,” Tatiana rejoined, her eyes sparkling with anger, “because he is such a nice chap; so was that young Moray; and, moreover, because I never blame the man in such affairs. It is the woman who is invariably the guilty party, and it is _so_ easy to behave oneself, especially when one has a good and good-looking husband. Besides, fancy any man landing that Laurence on his back for the rest of his natural existence--without being obliged to do so. A second Basil! Good Lord!”
Salvières took her strong little hand in his and patted it; but she was in no mood for tenderness, and, tearing herself away, she began to pace the floor, speaking as she moved.
“I have no patience with misconduct--inexcusable misconduct--like this! A cold-blooded coquette ruining life after life, dishonoring everybody concerned with her. How do you suppose that Basil will ever accept little Piotr as his now, after this new proof of Laurence’s incorrigible lightness? And--oh! but it is too atrocious! Now Basil will kill Preston Wynne, too! He does not joke about such things, as he has proved.”
“_À qui le dites vous!_” muttered Salvières, and continued, louder: “As luck will have it, your brother is in China or thereabouts, and it is not likely that he will hear of this for the present. Meanwhile, it seems to me that we should hurry our departure. Régis and I may be needed at any moment--indispensable, in fact. It stands to reason that that infernal woman will not turn her yacht’s nose toward the North Sea or any Mediterranean port. If you believe me she’s off to the States or to South America--and I wish it were the devil!” he wrathfully concluded.
“So do I,” assented Pavlo. “Between all of them they are worrying my little mother to pieces.”
“Nonsense!” protested Tatiana. “But it is true that this woman is really occupying too much room on the stage. Can’t she keep quiet? And Preston Wynne, we all took such a fancy to him when he came with Sir Robert and Lady Elizabeth to Salvières two years ago. He was so gay, so amusing--by no manner of means the type of man one would expect to sacrifice his whole future for a worthless woman like Laurence.”