He was a suspect who
had never been convicted. New York contained several husbands who eyed
him askance, but could not verify their suspicions, and the apparent
hopelessness of ever doing so made them look on Basil as a man who had
carried smoothness into the realms of fine art. He was considered too
gifted to be wholesome. The men of his set, being for the most part
amiably stupid, resented his cleverness.
Bailey, just at present, was feeling strongly on the subject of Basil.
He was at that stage of his married life when he would have preferred
his Sybil to speak civilly to no other man than himself. And only
yesterday Sybil had come to him to inform him with obvious delight that
Basil Milbank had invited her to join his yacht party for a lengthy
voyage.
This had stung Bailey. He was not included in the invitation. The whole
affair struck him as sinister. It was true that Sybil had never shown
any sign of being fascinated by Basil; but, he told himself, there was
no knowing. He forbade Sybil to accept the invitation. To soothe her
disappointment, he sent her off then and there to Tiffany's with a
roving commission to get what she liked; for Bailey, the stern, strong
man, the man who knew when to put his foot down, was no tyrant. But he
would have been indignant at the suggestion that he had bribed Sybil to
refuse Basil's invitation.
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