‘Yes. Didn’t you know?’
‘I couldn’t believe it. Don’t you find it a pretty rotten way of living?’
‘How silly! Of course not!’ she said scornfully. ‘Life seems to me a most frightfully overrated business, and practically always dull, if you stay the same person every day. On the other hand, you can’t be dull if you’re always somebody else.’
‘Adventures in the spirit?’
Ermyntrude had risen to her feet. Vicky got up, remarking in a more friendly tone: ‘I still think you’re fusty, but not so fusty.’
In the drawing-room, Mrs Bawtry became guided to explain the Group Movement to Mary. Lady Dering seized the opportunity to seat herself beside her hostess, and, presently, to broach the subject of the proposed new hospital. Vicky powdered her nose, and deepened the scarlet of her lips, until her appearance was fairly certain to shock sober-minded persons.
Ermyntrude had had two card-tables set out, and had spent the greater part of the afternoon trying to arrange two Bridge fours. As she had once, at a Charity Bridge Afternoon, played with Connie Bawtry, who became very fierce over the game, and argued about the play of every hand, her task soon grew into an insoluble puzzle, for nothing, she had decided, would induce her to play at Connie’s table, or with Sir William, of whom she stood in considerable awe; while it was clearly unthinkable that she should not have the Prince at her table, or should fail to separate husbands and wives.
However, when the men presently came into the drawing-room, it soon became apparent that the second table would have to be abandoned, for Hugh said firmly that he only took a hand if he was forced to do so, and Vicky developed a fit of contrariness., and said she hated Bridge. Ermyntrude was forced to fall back on Mary, an indifferent player, and on Wally, who had an unsuitable habit of cutting jokes all the time. But while she was trying to compose the two tables, the butler came into the room, and spoke in a disapproving undertone to Wally.
Ermyntrude was feeling flustered, and unfortunately demanded of Peake what was wanted. Peake, who despised both his employers, said primly, but not without a certain satisfaction: ‘A person of the name of Baker wishes to see Mr Carter, madam.’ He added fiendishly: ‘Upon urgent business.’
Ermyntrude turned white, and then red. Wally looked as discomfited as anyone of his temperament could, and said that it was all right, and he would come. Ermyntrude was so much upset by this contretemps that she lost any grip over the Bridge-question that she may ever have had, and weakly jettisoned the second table. Finally, th
e Derings and the Bawtrys sat down to play, on the understanding that Ermyntrude and the Prince would cut in after the first rubber.
That the butler’s announcement had been most unwelcome to Ermyntrude was apparent to all her guests, but the swift glance that passed between Mary and Vicky was noticed only by Hugh. As her elders moved towards the Bridge-table, fussed over solicitously by Ermyntrude, Vicky slid off the arm of the sofa, where she had perched herself, and strolled sinuously to the door. Mary said sharply: ‘Vicky, where are you going? I was going to suggest billiards – or something.’
‘All right,’ said Vicky. ‘I’ll join you.’
She went out, and Mary, having the liveliest mistrust of her discretion, said hurriedly to Hugh: ‘Do go along to the billiard-room! I’ll be with you in a minute. I must catch Vicky first.’
Considerably intrigued, Hugh docilely obeyed these instructions, and was discovered presently practising cannons. He straightened himself as Mary came in with Vicky at her heels, and after casting a look at two rather worried faces, said: ‘Is anything the matter? Can I help, or do I pretend to be unconscious?’
‘Oh, it’s nothing!’ replied Mary unconvincingly. ‘At least, nothing of importance.’
‘Well, I think it’s awfully important that no one should be allowed to spoil Ermyntrude’s party,’ said Vicky. ‘You may think it’s lousy anyway, and as a matter of fact it is, but the point is she doesn’t, and I’m perfectly certain she’d hate and loathe a scene.’
‘For God’s sake, Vicky, shut up!’ implored Mary.
‘Oh, don’t make a stranger of me! Who’s going to create a scene? The person of the name of Baker?’ asked Hugh.
‘Well, I’m not at all sure, but I shouldn’t wonder if it seemed a pretty good sort of an act to him, on account of his being a Communist, and probably disapproving of parties,’ said Vicky. She looked measuringly at Hugh, and her eyes brightened. ‘Are you any good at chucking people out?’ she demanded.
‘I’ve never tried my hand at it. Do you want Baker chucked out?’
‘I may,’ said Vicky cautiously. ‘But not if it would be a noisy business. Of course, I may be doing him a frightful injustice, or on the other hand, Wally may manage to get rid of him.’ A fresh idea presented itself to her. She turned to Mary. ‘I say, do you think he would be useful? On account of being a barrister, I mean?’
‘No, certainly not,’ said Mary. ‘Nor do I think we need discuss the matter.’
‘Yes, but, darling, I shouldn’t be at all surprised if you turned out to be full of repressions, and inhibitions, and things, and in any case it’s practically bound to be all over Fritton by this time, because things always are.’
‘By all of which I deduce that your relative has got himself into some sort of a mess,’ said Hugh, addressing himself to Mary. ‘I shouldn’t think I could be of any use, could I?’
‘No, none at all, thank you,’ said Mary. ‘It’s purely a family matter.’
‘Oh, I thought you didn’t want him to know!’ exclaimed Vicky innocently.
Hugh looked quickly at Mary’s indignant face, and said: ‘Good Lord, you don’t mean it? I don’t believe it!’
‘No, nor did we at first,’ agreed Vicky. ‘But I’m rather coming round to it, because I had a long talk with Percy this afternoon, and he utterly believes it. It’s a sickening nuisance, isn’t it?’
‘Is Percy the person named Baker?’ asked Hugh. ‘Who and what is he?’