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meaning.
    Georgia shuddered. Campion felt the involuntary movement and was puzzled again, since it did not seem to be inspired by fear or disgust. He had the unreasonable impression that there was something more like pleasure at the root of it.
    â€˜If it wouldn’t upset you to talk about him,’ he ventured, looking down at her, ‘I’d like to hear your impression of his mental condition the last time you saw him . . . if you’re sure you don’t mind.’
    â€˜My dear, I
must
talk!’ Georgia’s cry came from the heart, or seemed to do so, but the next instant her grip on his arm loosened and she said in an entirely different tone: ‘Who’s that coming over here with Val?’
    Campion glanced up and was aware of a faint sense of calamity.
    â€˜That?’ he murmured guiltily. ‘Oh, that’s Alan Dell, the aeroplane chap.’
    â€˜Introduce us,’ said Georgia. ‘I think he wants to meet me.’
    Val came across the room purposefully and it occurred to Mr Campion that she looked like
The Revenge
sailing resolutely into battle with her pennants flying. She looked very fine with her little yellow coxcomb held high and every line of her body flowing with that particular kind of femininity which is neat and precisely graceful. He sighed for her. He was prepared to back the Spanish galleon every time.
    Alan Dell came beside her. Having once met the man, Campion discovered that his shy and peculiarly masculine personality was now completely apparent and that his first superficial impression of him had vanished.
    Georgia put about.
    â€˜My pretty,’ she said, stretching out both hands. ‘Come and comfort me with clothes. I’m in a tragedy.’
    Her fine strong body was beautiful as she swung forward and a warmth of friendliness went out to meet the other girl. Val responded to it cautiously.
    â€˜I’ve got just the dress for it, whatever it is,’ she said lightly. ‘The ultimate garment of all time.’
    Georgia drew back. She looked pathetically hurt behind her smile.
    â€˜I’m afraid it’s a real tragedy,’ she said reproachfully.
    â€˜My pet, I’m so sorry. What is it?’ Val made the apology so unjustly forced from her and her eyes grew wary.
    Georgia glanced over her shoulder before she spoke. Ramillies still stood swinging on his toes, his glance restingconsideringly upon the small boy in the corner. Georgia shook her head.
    â€˜Tell me about the lovely dresses,’ she said, and added before Val or Campion could speak, ‘Who is this?’, a demand which brought Dell forward with the conviction that there had been a general disinclination to present him.
    He shook hands with unexpected gaucherie and stood blinking at her, suffering no doubt from that misapprehension so common to shy folk, that he was not quite so clearly visible to her as she was to him.
    Georgia regarded him with that glowing and intelligent interest which was her chief weapon of attack.
    â€˜The second last person on earth to find in a dress shop,’ she said. ‘My dear, are you going to enjoy all this? Have you ever been to this sort of show before?’
    â€˜No,’ he said and laughed. ‘I stayed to see you.’
    Georgia blushed. The colour flowed up her throat and over her face with a charm no seventeen-year-old could have touched.
    â€˜That’s very nice of you,’ she said. ‘I’m afraid I’m going to be very dull. Something rather beastly has happened to me and I’m just behaving disgustingly and blurting it out to everyone.’
    It was a dangerous opening and might well have proved disastrous but that her gift of utter directness was a lodestone. Dell’s sudden gratified sense of kindly superiority was communicated to them all and he murmured something bald about seeing her in trouble once more.
    â€˜
The Little Sacrifice
?’ she said quickly. ‘Oh, I adored