She was an indignant queen, no doubt she was alarmed and disgusted within limits; but she was highly excited, and there was something, some low adventurous strain in her being, some element, subtle at least if base, going about the rioting ways and crowded insurgent meeting-places of her mind declaring that the whole affair was after all—they are the only words that express it—a very great lark indeed. It would be swindling. And yet, at the end of this prayer a subconscious thought broke through to consciousness. Anna, do you not see that the Countess is sitting alone?” She rose, and flashed a quick smile upon Ennison behind her husband’s back. But I don’t care; I haven’t a spark of shame. ‘I did not send you a card because in the normal way of things you rarely attend such affairs.
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