“So you are determined to wrest my wife from me?” he smiled.

Tracy descended leisurely, opening his snuffbox.

“Yes, I require a hostess,” he said. “And I have”⁠—he paused⁠—“induced her to honour Andover with her presence. Shall we have the felicity of seeing you at any time?”

“I thank you, no. I am not, you will understand, in the mood for the gaiety for which my poor Lavinia craves.”

The Duke bowed slightly, and they all three went out on to the terrace, Lavinia laughing and talking as Richard had not heard her laugh or talk for days. She was the life and soul of the little dinner-party, flirting prettily with her husband and exerting herself to please him in every way. She had won her point; therefore she was in excellent spirits with all the world, and not even the spilling of some wine on her new silk served to discompose her.