"
"In other words, I am not to propose?" Sir Timothy said slowly.
"You see how decadent I am," she sighed. "I want to toy with my
pleasures. Besides, there's that scamp of a brother of mine
coming up to have a drink--I saw him get out of a taxi--and you
couldn't get it through in time, not with dignity."
The rattle of the lift as it stopped was plainly audible. He
stooped and kissed her fingers.
"I fear some day," he murmured, "I shall be a great
disappointment to you."
CHAPTER XXVIII
There was a great deal of discussion, the following morning at
the Sheridan Club, during the gossipy half-hour which preceded
luncheon, concerning Sir Timothy Brast's forthcoming
entertainment. One of the men, Philip Baker, who had been for
many years the editor of a famous sporting weekly, had a ticket
of invitation which he displayed to an envious little crowd.
"You fellows who get invitations to these parties," a famous
actor declared, "are the most elusive chaps on earth. Half
London is dying to know what really goes on there, and yet, if by
any chance one comes across a prospective or retrospective guest,
he is as dumb about it as though it were some Masonic function.
We've got you this time, Baler, though. We'll put you under the
inquisition on Friday morning.
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