all.'
`Another man's! What other man's?'
`Perhaps Duncan Forbes. He has been our friend all his life.'
`And he's a fairly well-known artist. And he's fond of me.'
`Well I'm damned! Poor Duncan! And what's he going to get out of it?'
`I don't know. But he might rather like it, even.'
`He might, might he? Well, he's a funny man if he does. Why, you've
never even had an affair with him, have you?'
`No! But he doesn't really want it. He only loves me to be near him,
but not to touch him.'
`My God, what a generation!'
`He would like me most of all to be a model for him to paint from. Only
I never wanted to.'
`God help him! But he looks down-trodden enough for anything.'
`Still, you wouldn't mind so much the talk about him?'
`My God, Connie, all the bloody contriving!'
`I know! It's sickening! But what can I do?'
`Contriving, conniving; conniving, contriving! Makes a man think he's
lived too long.'
`Come, Father, if you haven't done a good deal of contriving and
conniving in your time, you may talk.'
`But it was different, I assure you.'
`It's always different.'
Hilda arrived, also furious when she heard of the new developments. And
she also simply could not stand the thought of a public scandal about her
sister and a game-keeper. Too, too humiliating!
`Why should we not just disappear, separately, to British Columbia, and
have no scandal?' said Connie.
But that was no good. The scandal would come out just the same. And if
Connie was going with the man, she'd better be able to marry him. This was
Hilda's opinion. Sir Malcolm wasn't sure. The affair might still blow over.
`But will you see him, Father?'
Poor Sir Malcolm! he was by no means keen on it. And poor Mellors, he
was still less keen. Yet the meeting took place: a lunch in a private room
at the club, the two men alone, looking one another up and down.
Sir Malcolm drank a fair amount of whisky, Mellors also drank. And they
talked all the while about India, on which the young man was well informed.
This lasted during the meal. Only when coffee was served, and the
waiter had gone, Sir Malcolm lit a cigar and said, heartily:
`Well, young man, and what about my daughter?'
The grin flickered on Mellors' face.
`Well, Sir, and what about her?'
`You've got a baby in her all right.'
`I have that honour!' grinned Mellors.
`Honour, by God!' Sir Malcolm gave a little squirting laugh, and became
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