Chapter 17
‘AND THIS,’ said Bill, ‘is my friend, Trevor Dene. We were at Cambridge together. He’s staying with me, so I thought you wouldn’t mind my bringing him along...’
Mrs. Brenzler extended a plump, heavily gemmed hand. ‘From England?’
‘Yes,’ the young man admitted.
‘I like Englishmen,’ Mrs. Brenzler pronounced. ‘They’re so restful. Find yourself a chair, Mr. ...’— she glanced appealingly at Bill. ‘I’m just terrible at names...’
‘Dene,’ Thornley put in. ‘He’s stopping at the Yacht Club for a few days. New York is too fast for him. He’s reading for his Bar examination...’
This was the story that they had concocted between them. ‘Then I hope we shall see something of him,’ said Mrs. Brenzler amiably. ‘He must come over for some tennis. Ruth declares she’s sick of beating Nancy. Ha
