Before she could speak the door burst open, and the boisterous Rosamund Hunt,
in her flamboyant white hat, boa, and parasol, stood framed in the doorway.
She was in a breathing heat, and on her open face was an expression of
the most infantile astonishment.
"Well, here's a fine game!" she said, panting. "What am I to do now,
I wonder? I've wired for Dr. Warner; that's all I can think of doing."
"What is the matter?" asked Diana, rather sharply, but moving
forward like one used to be called upon for assistance.
"It's Mary," said the heiress, "my companion Mary Gray:
that cracked friend of yours called Smith has proposed to her
in the garden, after ten hours' acquaintance, and he wants
to go off with her now for a special licence."
Arthur Inglewood walked to the open French windows and looked
out on the garden, still golden with evening light.
Nothing moved there but a bird or two hopping and twittering;
but beyond the hedge and railings, in the road outside
the garden gate, a hansom cab was waiting, with the yellow
Gladstone bag on top of it.
Chapter IV
The Garden of the God
Diana Duke seemed inexplicably irritated at the abrupt entrance
and utterance of the other girl.
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