III
There was dancing going on. Andy Peters was dancing with Miss Jennson.
He held her close to him, and seemed to be murmuring in her ear. As theyrevolved slowly near where Hilary was standing¹ he caught her eye andimmediately gave her an outrageous² wink³.
Hilary, biting her lip to avoid a smile, averted⁴ her eyes quickly.
Her glance fell on Betterton who was standing just across the room talk-ing to Torquil Ericsson. Hilary frowned a little as she watched them.
“Have a turn with me, Olive?” said Murchison’s voice at her elbow.
“Yes, of course, Simon.”
“Mind you, I’m not very hot at dancing,” he warned her.
Hilary concentrated on keeping her feet where he could not possiblytread on them.
“It’s exercise, that’s what I say,” said Murchison, panting slightly. He wasan energetic dancer.
“Awfully jolly frock you’ve got on, Olive.”
His conversation seemed always to come out of an old-fashioned novel.
“I’m glad you like it,” said Hilary.
“Get it out of the Fashion Department?”
Resisting the temptation to reply: “Where else?” Hilary merely said,“Yes.”
“Must say, you know,” panted Murchison, as he capered⁵ perseveringlyround the floor, “they do you jolly well here. Said so to Bianca only theother day. Beats the Welfare State every time. No worries about money, orincome tax—or repairs or upkeep. All the worrying done for you. Must bea wonderful life for a woman, I should say.”
“Bianca finds it so, does she?”
“Well, she was restless for a bit, but now she’s managed to get up a fewcommittees and organize one or two things—debates, you know, and lec-tures. She’s complaining that you don’t take as much part as you might inthings.”
“I’m afraid I’m not that kind of person, Simon. I’ve never been very pub-lic spirited.”
“Yes, but you girls have got to keep yourselves amused one way or an-other. At least I don’t mean amused exactly—”
“Occupied?” suggested Hilary.

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