"You ought to have been there, Mr. Longueville," Blanche went on. "We
have had a most lovely night; we sat all the evening on Mrs. Vivian's
balcony, eating ices. To sit on a balcony, eating ices--that 's my idea
of heaven."
"With an angel by your side," said Captain Lovelock.
"You are not my idea of an angel," retorted Blanche.
"I 'm afraid you 'll never learn what the angels are really like," said
the Captain. "That 's why Miss Evers got Mrs. Vivian to take rooms over
the baker's--so that she could have ices sent up several times a day.
Well, I 'm bound to say the baker's ices are not bad."
"Considering that they have been baked! But they affect the mind,"
Blanche went on. "They would have affected Captain Lovelock's--only he
has n't any. They certainly affected Angela's--putting it into her head,
at eleven o'clock, to come out to walk."
Angela did nothing whatever to defend herself against this ingenious
sally; she simply stood there in graceful abstraction. Bernard was
vaguely vexed at her neither looking at him nor speaking to him; her
indifference seemed a contravention of that right of criticism which
Gordon had bequeathed to him.
"I supposed people went to bed at eleven o'clock," he said.
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