Sir Harry is too disgusting with his 'decayed gentlewomen.' I meant to read him a lesson some time. No, Lucy, the classes ought to mix, and before long you'll agree with me. There ought to be intermarriage — all sorts of things. I believe in democracy — ”

“No, you don't,” she snapped. “You don't know what the word means.”

He stared at her, and felt again that she had failed to be Leonardesque. “No, you don't!”

Her face was inartistic — that of a peevish virago.

“It isn't fair, Cecil. I blame you — I blame you very much indeed. You had no business to undo my work about the Miss Alans, and make me look ridiculous. You call it scoring off Sir Harry, but do you realize that it is all at my expense? I consider it most disloyal of you.”