serious love affairs than any other man in London. He seems to be one of
those men who fall in love hard every time they fall in love. He said
that it was one of the mysteries of the polite world how he had kept out
of the Divorce Court."

"Sounds an odd type," said Mr. Flexen, storing up the information, and
marking how little it agreed with his own observation of Colonel Grey.
"And you say that Lady Loudwater is interesting too?"

"Oh, come! Are you pumping me or merely pulling my leg?" said Mr. Manley.
"Surely you can see that Lady Loudwater is pure Italian Renaissance. She
is one of those subtle, mysterious creatures that Leonardo and Luini were
always painting, compact of emotion."

"It's so long since I was at Balliol, and then I was doing Indian Civil
work--the languages, you know. I've forgotten all I knew about the
Renaissance in Italy, and I don't look at many pictures. All the same, I
think you're wrong--your dramatic imagination, you know. My own idea is
that Lady Loudwater, at any rate, is a quite simple creature."

"It isn't mine," said Mr. Manley firmly. "She's a great deal too
intelligent to be simple, and she comes of far too intelligent a family."

"What family?" said Mr. Flexen.

"She's a Quainton, with Italian blood in her veins."

"The deuce she is!" cried Mr. Flexen, and half a dozen stories of the
Quaintons rose in his mind.