ties.

"I want to ask you something," said Lady Holme, confidentially. "You go
about and hear what they're saying."

"And greater nonsense it seems each new season."

"Nonsense keeps us alive."

"Is it the oxygen self-administered by an almost moribund society?"

"It's the perfume that prevents us from noticing the stuffiness of the
room. But, Robin, tell me--what is the nonsense of now?"

"Religious, political, theatrical, divorce court or what, Lady Holme?"

He looked at her with a touch of mischief in his dark face, which
told her, and was meant to tell her, that he was on the alert, and had
divined that she had a purpose in thus pleasantly taking possession of
him.

"Oh, the people--nonsense. You know perfectly what I mean."

"Whom are they chattering about most at the moment? You'll be
contemptuous if I tell you."

"It's a woman, then?"

"When isn't it?"

"Do I know her?"

"Slightly."

"Well?"

"Miss Schley."

"Really?"

Lady Holme's voice sounded perfectly indifferent and just faintly
surprised. There was no hint of irritation in it.

"And what are they saying about Miss Schley?" she added, sipping her tea
and glancing about the crowded room.

"Oh, many things, and among the many one that's more untrue than all the
rest put together."

"What's that?"

"It's too absurd. I don't think I'll tell you."

"But why not? If it's too absurd it's sure to be amusing."

"I don't think so."

His voice sounded almost angry.

"Tell me, Robin."

He looked at her quickly with a warm light in his dark eyes.

"If you only knew how I--"

"Hush! Go on about Miss Schley."

"They're saying that she's wonderfully like you, and that--have some
more tea?"

"That--?"

"That you hate it."

Lady Holme smiled, as if she were very much entertained.

"But why should I hate it?"

"I don't know. But women invent reasons for everything."

"What have they invented for this?"

"Oh--well--that you like to--I can't tell you it all, really. But in
substance it comes to this! They are saying, or implying--"

"Implication is the most subtle of the social arts."

"It's the meanest--implying that all that's natural to you, that sets
you apart from others, is an assumption to make you stand out from the
rest of the crowd, and that you hate Miss Schley because she happens
to have assumed some of the same characteristics, and so makes you seem
less unique than you did before."

Lady Holme said nothing for