I think," he added, also with a smile, "that the
ladies find the topic tiresome."
"Perhaps we may have the pleasure of continuing it when they are no
longer present."
"Oh, as you please," was the indifferent answer. "Carruthers, may
I trouble you to pass the salt? Lady O'Callaghan was complaining
the other night of the abuse of salt in Portuguese cookery. It is
an abuse I have never yet detected."
"I can't conceive Lady O'Callaghan complaining of too much salt in
anything, begad," quoth O'Moy, with a laugh. "If you had heard the
story she told me about - "
"Terence, my dear!" his wife checked him, her fine brows raised, her
stare frigid.
"Faith, we go from bad to worse," said Carruthers. "Will you try
to improve the tone of the conversation, Miss Armytage? It stands
in urgent need of it."
With a general laugh, breaking the ice of the restraint that was in
danger of settling about the table, a semblance of ease was restored,
and this was maintained until the end of the repast. At last the
ladies rose, and, leaving the men at table, they sauntered off
towards the terrace. But under the archway Sylvia checked her
cousin.
"Una," she said gravely, "you had better call Captain Tremayne and
take him away for the present.
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