"I have been told," she remarked, rather scornfully, "that gentlemen are
fond of the society of chorus-girls--I suppose they enjoy a certain
freedom there that they don't meet elsewhere."
"Neither Miss Ross nor Miss Girond is a chorus-girl," he said--though he
wasn't going to lose his temper over nothing.
"They have both sung in the chorus," she retorted, snappishly.
"That is neither here nor there," he said. "Why, what does it matter how
we go down, when we shall all meet there on a common footing? It was an
obviously simple arrangement--Sloane Street is on my way, whether I go
by road or rail--"
"Oh, pray don't make any apology to _me--I_ am not interested in the
question," she observed, in a most lofty manner, as she still affected
to be examining her dress in the mirror.
"I wasn't making any apology to anybody," he said, bluntly.
"Or explanation," she continued, in the same tone. "You seem to have a
strange fancy for foreigners, Mr. Moore; and I suppose they are glad to
be allowed to practice talking with any one who can speak decent
English."
"Nina--I mean Miss Ross--is an old friend of mine," he said, just
beginning to chafe a little.
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