174
THE AUTHOR OF "TRIXIE"
thing, briefly, in the nature of a jar, and, judging from Chloë's smile, a nasty one. A cold feeling passed down his spine and one bead of perspiration started upon his brow.
"Now then, Chloë, old stunt," said Dunkle, and helped himself to port.
Chloë helped herself to whisky. "So it appears, father mine," she observed, "that the rôle of shrinking violet no longer charms you. Fame, and plenty of it, is what you're after now. Henceforth it's the limelight for you, eh?" She drank.
"She's in the know," said Dunkle simply. "I mean about those two novels of yours. I hope you don't mind."
"No," said the Archdeacon. "Why should I mind? To-morrow all the world will be, as you say, in the know."
"Wrong," said Chloë. "Hopelessly wrong, Venerable."
