“Nearly always,” he amended.

“Disagreeable man! You admit you had lapses then?”

“So very trivial, my dear,” he excused himself. “And I swear my first action on coming to London was to call at Wyncham House. Imagine my disappointment⁠—my incalculable gloom (on the top of having already dropped a thousand at faro) when I found the shell void, and Venus⁠—”

She stopped him, her fan held ready for chastisement.

“Sir! You said your first action was to call upon me!”

He smiled, shaking back his curls.

“I should have said: my first action of any importance.”

“You do not deem losing a thousand guineas important?” she asked wistfully.