Both men saw it and both stooped to recover it,
but the Viscount, being nearer, picked it up, glanced at it, looked
at Barnabas with a knowing smile, glanced at it again, was arrested
by certain initials embroidered in one corner, stooped his head
suddenly, inhaling its subtle perfume, and so handed it back to
Barnabas, who took it with a word of thanks and thrust it into an
inner pocket, while the Viscount stared at him under his drawn brows.
But Barnabas, all unconscious, proceeded to cut himself another
slice of beef, offering to do the same for the Viscount.
"Thank you--no," said he.
"What--have you done, so soon?"
"Yes," said he, and thereafter sat watching Barnabas ply knife and
fork, who, presently catching his eye, smiled.
"Pray," said the Viscount after a while, "pray are you acquainted
with the Lady Cleone Meredith?"
"No," answered Barnabas. "I'll trouble you for the mustard, Dick."
"Have you ever met the Lady Cleone Meredith?"
"Never", answered Barnabas, innocent of eye.
Hereupon the Viscount rose up out of the chair and leaned across the
table.
"Sir," said he, "you are a most consummate liar!"
Hereupon Barnabas helped himself to the mustard with grave
deliberation, then, leaning back in his chair, he smiled up into the
Viscount's glowing eyes as politely and with as engaging an air as
might be.
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