That was what made it
the more upsetting. I felt I must do something to cheer her up."
"So you took her to Belloni's!" said Lawrence. "They do you uncommonly
well at Belloni's."
"Anyhow," Mark admitted, "they gave us some ripping Burgundy. I got
away directly we finished dinner," he continued, "and I knew Phoebe
wouldn't mind."
"Well," said Lawrence, in response to her warning frown, "now you're
here, suppose we have a game at bridge."
CHAPTER III
BRIDGET
To put the matter plainly, Carrissima was jealous.
It was half-past eleven when she reached her father's house at Number
13, Grandison Square, S.W., and she felt pleased to find that the fire
was still alight in the drawing-room. Having told the butler that he
need not sit up any longer, she threw off her long cloak, leaned back
in an easy-chair right in front of the grate, crossed her feet on the
fender, and clasped her miniature waist.
Remembering Bridget Rosser, with her vivid chestnut-coloured hair, her
somewhat pale skin, her wonderful eyes (as Mark quite justifiably
described them), her face, which was extraordinarily attractive,
although it might not contain one perfect feature, Carrissima could not
help feeling that there might be serious cause for jealousy.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25