The room had been suddenly invaded. The whole of the little
supper party, whose individual members he had pointed out to his
companion, came trooping into the room. They were all apparently
on the best of terms with themselves, and they all seemed to make
a point of absolutely ignoring Pritchard's presence. Elizabeth
was the one exception. She was carrying a tiny Chinese spaniel
under one arm; with the fingers of her other hand she held a
tortoise-shell mounted monocle to her eye, and stared directly at
the two men. Presently she came languidly across the room to
them.
"Dear me," she said, "I had no idea that even your wide circle of
acquaintances, Mr. Pritchard, included my friend, Mr. Tavernake."
The two men rose to their feet. Tavernake felt confused and
angry. It was as though he had been playing the traitor in
listening, even for a moment, to these stories.
"Mr. Pritchard introduced himself to me only a few minutes ago,"
he declared. "He brought me in here and I have been listening to
a lot of rubbish from him of which I don't believe a single
word."
She flashed a wonderful smile upon him.
"Mr. Pritchard is so very censorious," she murmured. "He takes
such a very low view of human nature. After all, though, I
suppose we must not blame him. I think that as men and women we
do not exist to him. We are simply the pegs by means of which he
can climb a little higher in the esteem of his employers."
Pritchard took up his soft hat and stick.
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