Ah. And I should like to know a little more, while we are upon the delicate subject of spying. When I found you behind the cypress-hedge this evening before dinner--
SOPHY.
Well?
QUEX.
You had just at that moment returned to the Italian garden, you said.
SOPHY.
Yes, so I said.
QUEX.
As a matter of fact, you had been there some time, I presume?
SOPHY.
A minute or two.
QUEX.
Heard anything?
SOPHY.
[_Laughing maliciously._] Ha, ha, ha! I heard her Grace say, "to-night"--[_faintly mimicking the_ d.u.c.h.eSS] "to-night!" [_With a curl of the lip._] That was enough for me.
QUEX.
Quite so. You told a deliberate lie, then, when I questioned you?
SOPHY.
Yes.
QUEX.
Earlier in the evening, that manicure game of yours--nothing but a d.a.m.ned cunning trick, eh?
SOPHY.
I beg you won"t use such language.
QUEX.
A trick, eh?
SOPHY.
Certainly.
QUEX.
You wanted--what did you want?
SOPHY.
[_Disdainfully._] A kiss, or a squeeze of the waist--anything of that sort would have done.
QUEX.
Oh, would it? You didn"t get what you wanted, though.
SOPHY.
No; I suppose you were frightened.
QUEX.
[_Angrily._] What!
SOPHY.
Too many people about for you.
QUEX.
[_Stifling his annoyance._] Tsch! If I had--[_with a wave of the hand_]
what course would you have taken, pray?
SOPHY.
[_With an air of great propriety._] Complained at once to Lady Owbridge.
QUEX.
As it is--what do you think of doing now?
SOPHY.
About you and her Grace?
QUEX.
[_Scowling._] Yes.