He secured the single
glass in his eye and looked deliberately around. Isabella watched him
with a tense interest. Mrs. Polder gave a short, perturbed giggle. "Just
like George Arliss," she told her son. James Polder, on the edge of a
chair, was twitching with repressed uneasiness; he frowned
antagonistically and then gazed appealingly at Mariana. "I have been
introduced to your cousin, Miss Provost," Isabella again took up her
social thread. "A dear friend of mine, a talented actress, gave a
recitation at Miss Provost's request, for suffrage."
"Eliza's splendid," Mariana pronounced.
"Peter Jannan Provost's daughter," Byron Polder added fully. But his
voice indicated that even more, darkly unfavourable, might be revealed.
"Miss Provost has been under arrest." Damn the solemn ass, Howat Penny
thought. "She's been in the jug twice now," Mariana went on cheerfully;
"Kingsfrere had to put up a bond the last time." Mrs. Polder was rapidly
regaining her ease. "Wasn't her mamma scared?" she inquired. "I'd go on
if Isabella was taken up."
"Imagine Isabella!" Jim Polder exploded. "It's quite the thing," that
individual asserted. "Isabella," her mother declared, "it is twenty-five
past seven. I wish you'd go out and see where dinner is.
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