Ford's saying 'Go!' Ogden's saying 'Fool!' the portrait saying
'Idiot!' and, finally, the eyes of this wonderfully handsome girl,
large, grey, cool, amused, and contemptuous saying--so it seemed
to him in that feverish moment--'Who is this curious pink person
who cumbers the ground before me?'

'I--I beg your pardon.' he repeated.

'Ought to look where you're going,' said Ogden severely.

'Not at all,' said the girl. 'Won't you introduce me, Nesta?'

'Lord Mountry--Miss Drassilis,' said Mrs Ford.

'I'm afraid we're driving Lord Mountry away,' said the girl. Her
eyes seemed to his lordship larger, greyer, cooler, more amused,
and more contemptuous than ever. He floundered in them like an
unskilful swimmer in deep waters.

'No, no,' he stammered. 'Give you my word. Just going. Good-bye.
You won't forget to let me know about the yacht, Mrs Ford--what?
It'll be an awfully jolly party. Good-bye, good-bye, Miss
Drassilis.'

He looked at Ogden for an instant, as if undecided whether to take
the liberty of addressing him too, and then, his heart apparently
failing him, turned and bolted. From down the corridor came the
clatter of a dropped stick.

Cynthia Drassilis closed the door and smiled.