Читать книгу The Ball of Fire онлайн

38 страница из 101

“Hello, folks,” he nodded. “Gail home?”

“Not yet,” responded Mrs. Sargent, in whose brow the creases were becoming fixed.

“It’s hardly time,” estimated Jim, and went back in the study.

“Ted has a new divinity,” boasted the wife of that agreeable young man.

“Had, you mean,” corrected Ted. “She’s deserted me for a single man.”

“Is it the Piccadilly widow?” inquired Arly, punching another pillow under her elbow.

“Certainly,” corroborated Ted. “You don’t suppose I have a new one every day.”

“You’re losing your power of fascination then,” retorted Arly. “Lucile’s still in the running with two a day.”

“She should have her kind by the dozen,” responded Ted, complacently stroking his glossy moustache.

“The young set takes up some peculiar fads,” mused Mrs. Davies, with a trace of concern. “I can’t quite accustom myself to the sanction of flirting.”

“Neither can I,” agreed Ted. “It takes the fun out of it.”

“The only joy is in boasting about it at home,” complained Arly Fosland. “I can’t even get Gerald interested in my affairs, so I’ve dropped them.”