“I don’t,” said Rosemary, laying her head against his. “I—I rather like them, Derry. . . . I wonder what Roger would say if he——”
“Will say,” corrected Derry. “Unless I’m much mistaken, it’ll send the blood to his head. An’ the same with my lawful wife. Then perhaps they’ll begin to perceive that marriage is not like bettin’ an’ you can’t have a bit each way. Whereupon they’ll gird up their loins and return to the fold.”
“I suppose we shall have to do the same,” said Derry ruefully. “It’s rather hard, isn’t it? They’ve gone an’ thrown us together an’ presently they’ll tear us apart. Never mind, I shall write to you surreptitiously. And when I smudge the letter you’ll know that I’m thinking of a night when your hair was full of the Rubaiyat and your blessed cheek stung me till I wanted to pick you up and carry you into the hills.”
_What’ll I do_ _When you_ _Are far away,_ _And I_ _Am blue—_ _What’ll I do?_
Derry picked up his cue in a pleasing baritone—
_What’ll I do_ _When I_ _Am wondering who_ _Is kissing you—_ _What’ll I do?_
“Oh, you darling,” breathed Derry. “Of course, Roger must be out of his mind.”
Rosemary decelerated and slid an arm round his neck.
As she gave him her lips, headlights leapt out of the darkness and four tires tore at the road.
Peruke wrenched the wheel round, and they missed a head-on collision by an inch and a half.
The coupé alone was to blame, Rosemary having allowed her to stray to the right of the road.
“They must have seen us,” said Rosemary. “Let’s pray it was no one we knew.”
“At least,” said Derry Peruke, “they can’t have been angry. To see all is to forgive all. And next time, sweetheart, I think I should put her in first.”
“Did you see who that was?” said Virginia in a freezing tone.
Captain Chase inserted a finger between his collar and throat.
“I saw your blasted husband kissing my wife.”
“How dare you?” cried Mrs. Peruke. “She had her arms round his neck.”
“He was taking advantage of her,” declared Roger. “Rosemary’s not that sort.”
“What d’you mean—_that sort_?” said Virginia furiously.
In view of the powder yet adhering to her companion’s shoulder, the peculiar pertinence of the question was undeniable.
“I only meant,” he explained, “that—that she wouldn’t make the running.”