voice in the room beyond, and instantly began to tear off her dress,
strip the long gloves from her arms and unpin the rose in her hair.
Tossing the fallen finery aside, she slipped on a dressing-gown and
opened the door into the drawing-room.

Mr. Spragg was standing near her mother, who sat in a drooping attitude,
her head sunk on her breast, as she did when she had one of her "turns."
He looked up abruptly as Undine entered.

"Father--has mother told you? Mrs. Fairford has asked me to dine. She's
Mrs. Paul Marvell's daughter--Mrs. Marvell was a Dagonet--and they're
sweller than anybody; they WON'T KNOW the Driscolls and Van Degens!"

Mr. Spragg surveyed her with humorous fondness.

"That so? What do they want to know you for, I wonder?" he jeered.

"Can't imagine--unless they think I'll introduce YOU!" she jeered back
in the same key, her arms around his stooping shoulders, her shining
hair against his cheek.

"Well--and are you going to? Have you accepted?" he took up her joke as
she held him pinioned; while Mrs. Spragg, behind them, stirred in her
seat with a little moan.

Undine threw back her head, plunging her eyes in his, and pressing so
close that to his tired elderly sight her face was a mere bright blur.

"I want to awfully," she declared, "but I haven't got a single thing to
wear."