"Gad!" exclaimed his Lordship, "this is more than I bargained for. I
must be off."
"Indeed!" said Barnabas, who for the last minute or so had been
watching a man who was strolling idly up the lane, a tall, languid
gentleman in a jaunty hat. "You seem all at once in a mighty hurry
to get to London."
"London!" repeated the Viscount, staring blankly. "London? Oh, why
yes, to be sure, I was going to London; but--hum--fact of the matter
is, I've changed my mind about it, my dear Bev; I'm going--back. I'm
following Carnaby."
"Ah!" said Barnabas, still intent upon the man in the lane,
"Carnaby again."
"Oh, damn the fellow!" exclaimed the Viscount.
"But--he is your friend."
"Hum!" said the Viscount; "but Carnaby is always--Carnaby, and she--"
"Meaning the Lady Cleone," said Barnabas.
"Is a woman--"
"'The lovely Meredith'!" nodded Barnabas.
"Exactly!" said the Viscount, frowning; "and Carnaby is the devil
with women."
"But not this woman," answered Barnabas, frowning a little also.
"My dear fellow, men like Carnaby attract all women--"
"That," said Barnabas, shaking his head, "that I cannot believe.
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