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gave her the sharpest look. He had doubtless, in the dubious past—she was sure that it was dubious—which he shared with Cobie, heard him say that. Perhaps more than once.
    Before he could answer her, she added, ‘It depends, I think, on what one means by enjoy.’
    A slow smile crossed his broad face, ‘Oh, yes, Lady Dinah. Do let us logic-chop. Such a change from the usual conversation at these places. You have been learning from…Jacobus.’
    He had nearly said Jumping Jake, because watching her he could see how much a pupil of his she was, and how much she had learned from him.
    â€˜Yes, from Jacobus. He has never told me where his name came from. Do you know, Mr Van Deusen?’
    He shook his head sadly. ‘Alas, no.’
    He did not tell her that it was not the name he had originally known Cobie by, and which it was difficult for him not to use. ‘A family name, I believe.’
    â€˜Ah, but what family?’ retorted Dinah naughtily, and then relented. ‘I mustn’t tease you, must I. Besides, Sir Ratcliffe is coming, and I must put on my best face for him, and do nothing to encourage him in any way.’
    Which was difficult, for he had taken to pursuing Dinah Grant, and she could see his wife, old before her time, standing before the tall windows, the late afternoon light cruel on her face. She had not worn as well as her husband and the twenty years of her unhappy married life were written harshly on her features.
    Pity for her made Dinah a little abrupt with her husband.Mr Van Deusen had melted away on his arrival, leaving her to cope with him alone. He was sure that she could.
    â€˜And who the devil’s he that he should be here?’ uttered Sir Ratcliffe peremptorily, staring after him. ‘Any idea, Lady Di?’
    She disliked her name being shortened, and said a little frostily, ‘He’s a friend of my husband, and beside that he is known to the American Envoy and, I believe, to Lord Kenilworth. Something to do with a trade mission to the United States a few years ago. Lord Kenilworth met him then.’
    â€˜Pity we have to deal with such upstarts,’ sighed Sir Ratcliffe, forgetting that Dinah was married to one of them.
    â€˜Yes, isn’t it?’ agreed Dinah smartly. ‘And what a pity that they’re so rich that we’re happy to marry them—for their dollars, of course.’
    Sir Ratcliffe, remembering that Dinah was reputed to have done just that, said kindly, ‘Much better if we could have their dollars without their presence, haw, haw!’
    â€˜One must pay something for benefits received,’ Dinah sighed back at him. ‘After all, I doubt whether I should be here at all if I hadn’t married my husband. Think what I should have missed.’
    Now this was all as two-faced as any of her husband’s conversations, seeing that she wasn’t at all sure that taking part in the social round was any kind of benefit at all. The real benefits of her marriage could hardly be discussed with Sir Ratcliffe.
    â€˜Oh, indeed,’ he drawled back at her, thinking that she was wittier than Violet, and much less of a shrew into the bargain. Susanna was beginning to pall: she was too clinging, and an affaire with Grant’s wife would be one in the eye for Grant and no mistake. He was reputed to make freewith other men’s wives rather than provide his own for their use.
    â€˜I see that you take after your sister, Lady Dinah—in more ways than one, I hope,’ and he looked at her with the light of hopeful conquest in his eye.
    Fortunately, Cobie, not liking to see his wife so much as speak to Sir Ratcliffe, came over to them, excused them both and led her out of the Hall down yet another long corridor. His conversation, apparently aimless, was far from being so.
    â€˜Markendale is an architectural monstrosity,’ he said idly. ‘I have been talking to Lord Kenilworth’s land