'My room is next
to Madame's on the ground floor.'
'I know,' said Barty, sagely, nodding his head. 'It used to be a
boudoir--nice little room. By the way, where is Mrs Villiers to-
night?'
'She's not well,' replied Kitty, yawning behind her fan, for she was
weary of Barty and his small talk. 'She's very worried.'
'Over money matters, I suppose?'
Kitty laughed and shook her head.
'Hardly,' she answered.
'I dare say,' replied Barty, 'she's awfully rich. You know, I'm in
the bank where her account is, and I know all about her. Rich! oh,
she is rich! Lucky thing for that French fellow if he marries her.'
'Marries her?' echoed Kitty, her face growing pale. 'M. Vandeloup?'
'Yes,' replied Barty, pleased at having made a sensation. 'Her first
husband has vanished, you know, and all the fellows are laying bets
about Van marrying the grass widow.'
'What nonsense!' said Kitty, in an agitated voice. 'M. Vandeloup is
her friend--nothing more.'
Barty grinned.
'I've seen so much of that "friendship, and nothing more",
business,' he said, significantly, whereupon Kitty rose to her feet.
'I'm tired,' she said, coldly. 'Kindly take me to Mrs Riller.'
'I've put my foot into it,' thought Jarper, as he led her away. 'I
believe she's spoons on Van herself.'
Mrs Riller was not very pleased to see Kitty, as Mr Bellthorp was
telling her some amusing scandals about her dearest friends, and, of
course, had to stop when Kitty came up.
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