, Ina--oh, you should have seen her!--
That Ina was the _chic_-est girl in town."

Lady Holme frowned.

"Fritz!" she called rather sharply.

Lord Holme appeared with a coat thrown over his arm and a hat in his
hand. His brown face was beaming with self-satisfaction.

"Well, old girl, ready? What's up now?"

"I wish you wouldn't sing those horrible music-hall songs. You know I
hate them."

"Music-hall! I like that. Why, it's the best thing in _The Chick from
the Army and Navy_ at the Blue Theatre."

"It's disgustingly vulgar."

"What next? Why, I saw the Lord Chan--"

"I daresay you did. Vulgarity will appeal to the Saints of Heaven next
season if things go on as they're going now. Come along."

She went out of the room, walking more quickly than she usually walked,
and holding herself very upright. Lord Holme followed, forming the words
of his favourite song with his lips, and screwing up his eyes as if he
were looking at an improper peepshow. When they were in the electric
brougham, which spun along with scarcely any noise, he began:

"I say, Vi, how long've you known Miss Schley?"

"I don't know. Some weeks."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I did. I said I had met her at Mrs. Wolfstein's lunch."

"No, but why didn't you tell me how like you she was?"

There was complete silence in the brougham for a minute. Then Lady Holme
said:

"I had no idea she was like me."

"Then you're blind, old girl. She's like you if you'd been a chorus-girl
and known a lot of things you don't know."

"Really. Perhaps she has been a chorus-girl."

"I'll bet she has, whether she says so or not."

He gave a deep chuckle. Lady Holme's gown rustled as she leaned back in
her corner.

"And she's goin' to Arkell House. Americans are the very devil for
gettin' on. Laycock was tellin' me to-night that--"

"I don't wish to hear Mr. Laycock's stories, Fritz. They don't amuse
me."

"Well, p'r'aps they're hardly the thing for you, Vi. But they're deuced
amusin' for all that."

He chuckled again. Lady Holme felt an intense desire to commit some
act of physical violence. She shut her eyes. In a minute she heard her
husband once more beginning to hum the refrain about Ina. How utterly
careless he was of her desires and requests. There was something animal
in his forgetfulness and indifference. She had loved the animal in him.
She did love it. Something deep down in her nature answered eagerly to
its call. But at moments