ix

Patricia was not to escape Harry; for she and Monty had presently to rest. They sat at one of the tables, and Monty ordered some more to drink, and gently urged Patricia to join him. As she was hesitating, refusing, yielding, a voice came from behind them which sent a tremor through her. Harry and Rhoda stood there, laughing like children who had stolen unawares upon sleeping elders.

"Hullo!" cried Harry. "Hullo, Patricia!"

Rhoda drew up a chair to Patricia's side, and began vivaciously to talk. Patricia had a glimpse of the dead white cheeks and red lips and full dark eyes, and struggled to carry on a conversation with Rhoda while she was giving all her attention to what was passing behind her, between the two men.

"Saw you when you first came in!" said Rhoda. "What a pretty dress that is. This blue ... there aren't many complexions that would stand it. Yours does, though. I'm sticking to black just now. Makes me look svelte. I'm getting fat. You've been dining with Monty, I suppose. Lucky girl. I had to dig Harry out. He's working like a nigger. Going abroad...."

"I ... had ... to ... dig ... Harry ... out!... He's ... going ... abroad!" That was all Patricia heard. "He's going abroad ... going to the East, and the sun, perhaps ... tramping in the sun, making everything ... easy."

"I wish ... I were going ... abroad," stammered Patricia.

"Wouldn't it be jolly. I say, let's all go! If you could get somebody.... You could join us somewhere.... I mean...." Rhoda checked herself. Patricia shrank back.

"No, no!" she whispered. But she had heard the words which Rhoda had spoken so thoughtlessly. And behind her was Harry's voice, quite quietly saying:

"Let's change partners for a dance, Monty. I...."

Her hand shot out uncontrollably. A "no" started to her lips. She heard Monty say with equal quietness, in his thick sweet voice:

"By no means, Harry. I wouldn't deprive you of your partner for the world. How entirely charming she looks, with that ivory skin...."

"Patricia," said Harry, at her side, his lips to her ear. "Dance this once with me. Dear, I want you to. This once."

She looked up at him with something of the old insolent laughter in her eyes.

"What nonsense!" she said, rather breathlessly. "I'm with Monty."

She was quite cold to Harry now; but she would have died rather than dance with him.