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She made no answer till the carriage drew up opposite his flat. "It would be deplorable if you made a scene on the pavement," she observed carelessly. Then she stepped out and told the driver to go back to Belgrave Square for Mrs. O'Rane. It was a moon-lit night between half-past eleven and twelve.
O'Rane. Or Gaymer would be delighted to find you a taxi. Or you could go on foot." She drew herself up to her full height. "Instead of which I humiliated myself by asking a small thing which was just big enough to give you the opportunity of being rude." She turned away to the table, but stopped at the sound of laughter from Eric.
Jack Waring and O'Rane, Loring and Deganway always seemed to regard him as a harmless eccentric who wrote unacceptable plays for his own amusement. . . . The hair-brushing completed, he put on a dressing-gown and crossed the hall to his smoking-room for the sherry and cigarette.
And Colonel Waring and Agnes: he remembered them, because he was so much surprised to see them . . . and he had wanted to introduce Agnes to Babs, and there had been no opportunity. . . . And Colonel Grayle and Sonia O'Rane, who invited them to come back for supper. . . . There was violent reaction after his early nervousness, and he found himself within an inch of giggling.
Shelley crept to the door, whispering that she had to start work early next day or she would not dream of breaking up such a delightful party; she was promptly arrested and brought back by Mrs. O'Rane with the offer of Lady Maitland's brougham, which was to call for her at eleven.
Sonia O'Rane you know; Max or did Max say he was dining at his club? It doesn't matter, because I can't pretend that Max contributes much, even though he is my husband; then there's my nephew, Johnnie Gaymer; and Babs Neave " "Dear Babs," murmured Mrs. Shelley with conscientious enthusiasm.
O'Rane was leaning forward with one elbow on the table and her other hand repressing Gaymer. The cast of the "Divorce" was being slightly changed, and they had thought it worth while to venture a sovereign on the name of one nonentity who was retiring in favour of another.
O'Rane wrote vaguely of a party which she had in prospect, without apparently knowing very much about it: "a sort of house-warming. I'm not asking you to meet any one in particular, because I don't know who'll be there. It'll be a mob, I warn you. I'm inviting my friends, my husband's inviting his; they'll probably quarrel, and there's sure not to be room for all.
Every one's always a success with her; talking to her is as demoralizing as cracking jokes from the Bench. Mrs. O'Rane wants me to write her a duologue just as one draws a rabbit for a child . . . . That only leaves you. And you capitulated more completely even than Poynter, without the '63 port as an introduction and bond." Barbara looked at him with a dawning smile.
"You were barely civil, when I rang you up the other night," she interjected, in a pause, with the disconcerting directness of nineteen. "I was late already, and you were making me later," Eric answered patiently. "That night ? Oh, yes." He detailed Lady Poynter's dinner to his mother and observed an expression of mixed curiosity and disapproval settling upon his sister's face. "Mrs. O'Rane?
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