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beautiful wife in an upstairs four-poster, was forced to expel the frantically protesting Argentine from the house.
        Clemency was sniffing in an armchair and receiving a pep talk from Brigadier Hughie, who felt that, as chairman of the club, he should provide moral guidance. `D'you really feel, Clemency, m'dear, that it's worth leaving a tolerant husband, three lovely children and nine hundred acres for the sake of six inches of angry gristle?'
        Clemency sniffed and said yes she did, that David could be very intolerant, and Juan's gristle wasn't angry and was considerably more than six inches.
        Chessie found herself giggling so much that she had to leave the room and went slap into Bart Alderton, who was clutching another large Scotch. Chessie updated him on the Juan-Clemency saga.
        `She's crazy,' went on Chessie. `David puts up with murder, even if he is stingy, and he is loaded.'
        `Unlike your spouse,' said Bart pointedly.
    ` Ghastly word,' said Chessie. `And I hear you're not espousing his cause next year.'
        Bart took her arm and frogmarched her outside on to the long grass beyond the lawn, away from a scuffling Victor and Sharon.
        `Who told you that?' he said sharply.
    ` Miguel was overheard boasting to Juan. I wish you the luck of them. Miguel will fleece you and Juan will no
        doubt offer Grace a good deal more than six inches. At least Ricky's honest and hasn't jumped on Grace.'
        `Why's he so broke?' snarled Bart. `He's paid enough.'
        Chessie put a hand on a stone lion. Though the sun was long set, it was still warm. The scent from a clump of philadelphus was almost overwhelming.
        `Stymied by a massive overdraft,' she said. `He's spent so much on the yard and ponies and a stick-and-ball field. And he's no good at selling ponies on at a wicked profit like some people. He gets too fond of them, and always justifies not selling them by claiming they'll go for three times as much next year, when he's put more work into them. His father used to help him, but they fell out.'
        `Can't say I blame his Daddy,' said Bart heavily. `El Orgulloso, indeed.'
        `Actually Ricky's very shy and introverted,' protested Chessie. `He's Aquarius you know - aloof glamour, but has difficulty expressing himself.'
        `What sign d'you think I was born under?' asked Bart. Chessie laughed. `A pound sign, I should think. I want another drink.'
        Shrieks were coming from the swimming-pool as people, fully dressed, jumped into the icy water, which David Waterlane had been too mean to turn up until that morning.
        Inside, Bart poured a glass of wine for Chessie and more whisky for himself.
        `I'm not sponsoring Ricky next season,' he said brutally. `I'm crazy about my polo, but not with him. It's costing me a million dollars a year, none of it disposable. Victor scores a goal today and all I get is abuse.'
        `He droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven,' said Chessie. Seeing her face was quite expressionless, Bart said, `He neglects you too.'
        `He prefers polo to sex,' said Chessie flatly, `but what player doesn't?'
        `I don't,' said Bart roughly, stroking her slender brown arm with the back of his hand. `I wouldn't neglect anything as precious as you.'
        `Put me in a packing chest with the rest of your Renoirs, would you?' taunted Chessie.
        The Waterlanes' ancient gramophone was now playing `Anything Goes'. Bart took Chessie off to dance.`Where's Grace?' murmured Chessie, deciding that Bart
        was rather excitingly built.
        `Gone home, she was pooped.'
        `Leaving you on the loose? That's unwise.'
        `Unwise of Ricky and Grace,' said Bart, drawing her
        close.
        For the first time he looked her straight in the eye
        and kept on looking. Her skin was translucent, her hair tousled, her wanton sleepy eyes as violet as the shadows
        beneath