“Of course not,” agreed her hostess; “that must be put a stop to at once. But I don’t quite know what we ought to do.”

“You might put a barbed wire entanglement round the yew tree as a precautionary measure,” said Clovis.

“I don’t think that the disagreeable situation that has arisen is improved by flippancy,” said Mrs. Riversedge; “a good maid is a treasure⁠—”

“I am sure I don’t know what I should do without Florinda,” admitted Mrs. Troyle; “she understands my hair. I’ve long ago given up trying to do anything with it myself. I regard one’s hair as I regard husbands: as long as one is seen together in public one’s private divergences don’t matter. Surely that was the luncheon gong.”

Septimus Brope and Clovis had the smoking-room to themselves after lunch. The former seemed restless and preoccupied, the latter quietly observant.