— XX —CONSPIRATORS
When, a few minutes afterwards, the two ladies were moving across the hall, they were intercepted by Lord Ifield. He addressed his hostess.
“I was wondering where you were. How about that run we were to have on the car?”
The lady looked at him with eyes which he had decided some time ago were the sweetest he had ever seen. She gave her dainty head a slight movement which apparently signified regret.
“I’m afraid I can’t come just yet. I’d love to, but – shall we say in an hour? I can’t promise, but perhaps. Isn’t there anything in the house you can do for an hour? Haven’t you any letters to write?”
“Never write ’em.”
“Then you ought to write them.”
“Never do what I ought; never.”
“I’m afraid you don’t. Couldn’t you amuse yourself by knocking the billiard balls abo
