"Then--er--you
don't love me after all?"
"No!" said Billie. "I am engaged to Bream Mortimer, and I love him and
nobody else in the world!"
The last portion of her observation was intended for the consumption of
Mr. Bennett, rather than that of Mr. Peters, and he consumed it
joyfully. He folded Billie in his ample embrace.
"I always thought you had a grain of sense hidden away somewhere," he
said, paying her a striking tribute. "I hope now that we've heard the
last of all this foolishness about that young hound Marlowe."
"You certainly have! I don't want ever to see him again! I hate him!"
"You couldn't do better, my dear," said Mr. Bennett, approvingly. "And
now run away. Mr. Peters and I have some business to discuss."
A quarter of an hour later, Webster, the valet, sunning himself in the
stable-yard, was aware of the daughter of his employer approaching him.
"Webster," said Billie. She was still pale. Her face was still hard,
and her eyes still gleamed coldly.
"Miss?" said Webster politely, throwing away the cigarette with which
he had been refreshing himself.
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