"I expect you bought her so many expensive trinkets and baubles that the white carriage and those excellent white mares that go with it went unnoticed, hmm?"

I pay very little attention to such matters." Trescott groaned. "Must be pleasant to be as rich as Croesus. Well, no offense, sir, but it's obvious that she got her little claws rather deeply into you before she decided to look for another lover."

"Widows frequently inherit vast sums from their late husbands."

"Word is that the late Mr. Bright was quite elderly and lived a reclusive life somewhere in Devon." Trescott gave Marcus a shrewd glance. "He may have left her some money, but the whole world suspects that she did very well out of you, Masters."

"You know how these things are. A man must pay for his pleasures."

Trescott smiled thinly and then boldly stuck his hand ad the way into the lion's cage. "How does it feel to have been well and truly fleeced by a scheming mistress who is now determined to find another man to replace you in hex bed?"

"The sensation I am experiencing at the moment is somewhat difficult to describe, Trescott."

"I vow, there's scarcely a man in Society who would not give a fortune to take your place in her boudoir."

"Indeed." "Certainly all of your acquaintances, especially those with whom you occasionally play cards, are seen in her vicinity on a nightly basis," Trescott continued. "Lartmore, Darrow, Ellis, and Judson are usually clustered around her. And there are several fops and dandies such as Hoyt, who contrive to amuse her so as to be seen in her company."

"Some men will go to any length to be in fashion." "Speaking of fashion," Trescott added, "her knowledge of classical antiquities has drawn a number of ladies into her circle of associates. You know how it is these days. Every female in Society is anxious to redecorate her house in the classical style. Each wants her decor to be more authentic than anyone else's."