"Well?" she queried, impatiently striking the table with her fork.
Jasper leant forward and spoke with calm, unpleasant deliberation.
"Ada," said he, "there was once a person who killed the goose that laid
him golden eggs; there was another who beat his horse till it pitched
him into the ditch; but neither of these attained such a height of folly
as Miss Lester bids fair to reach, if she persists in worrying her prize
donkey into kicking her to the ground and leaving her in the mud."
"Oh, don't be an idiot, Jasper!" she exclaimed irritably. "Speak out
plain, can't you?"
"I certainly can, and will, my dear lady. To put it plainly, then, you
are going the quickest way to make Adrien tired of you. After all, if
you happen to possess a goose with the propensity to lay golden eggs,
surely it is wise to humour him. And if the said goose happens to
dislike the smell of onions, why fill the house with that particular
perfume, sufficient to suffocate an elephant? Again, is it not the
height of folly to stick plaster statues on the staircase which he
ascends daily, when you know this particular goose detests imitation
art? In short, my dear Ada, if you persist in thrusting vulgarity down
his throat, you will find yourself very soon out of the graces of our
friend, Adrien Leroy."
Ada, who had been beating a loud tattoo with the fork which she still
held in her hand, sprang to her feet and struck the table with a force
which set the glasses jingling.
"Jasper!" she almost shouted. "You'll drive me mad! Why don't you speak
out and say what you mean? What's the matter with Adrien? What does he
want? Aren't there a hundred men who'd be glad enough to furnish a house
for me as I like? And can't I even eat what I choose without Adrien
Leroy's delicate nose being turned up in disapproval?"
"You can go to the deuce, if you like, my dear," declared Jasper with a
calm smile. "I merely warn you that you are on the way to finding
yourself in the street, if I may be allowed to speak out. Have another
cigarette, and spray some patchouli about the room. There are more geese
than one, as you say; and, after all, it is hard if you can't indulge in
onions in your own room at one o'clock in the morning."
Goaded almost to desperation by the sneering sarcasm of Vermont's words,
the woman threw down her fork, thereby smashing a champagne glass, and
thrust her angry, flushed countenance close to his.