"You have been so
spoiled--"
"I see he's up at the Garden Club," said Lionel, to change the subject.
"Who?"
"The young gentleman you were just speaking of."
"Percy Miles? What does he want with an all-night club?"
"I'm sure I don't know."
"Ah, well, I suppose he is not likely to get in," she said, turning to
the tall mirror. "Percy is very nice--just the nicest boy I know--but
I'm afraid he is not particularly clever. He has written some verses in
one or two magazines--of course you can't expect me to criticise them
severely, considering who was the 'only begetter' of them--"
"Oh, that has nothing to do with it," Lionel interrupted again. "He is
sure to get in. There's no qualification at the Garden, so long as
you're all right socially. There are plenty such as he in the club
already."
"But why does he want to get in?" she said, wheeling round. "Why should
he want to sit up all night playing cards? Now tell me honestly, Lionel,
it isn't your doing! You didn't ask him to join, did you? You can't be
treasuring up any feeling of vengeance--"
"Oh, nonsense; I had nothing to do with it. I saw his name in the
candidates' book quite by accident.
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