III
THE CABARET DANCER
We could only stare from Burke to Hastings, startled at the magnitude of the affair as it developed so rapidly.
For a moment Hastings was at a loss, then darted quickly into a telephone-booth to call up his office on long distance for confirmation of the news.
As we waited I happened to glance out into the lobby. At the far end, in an angle, to my surprise I saw Shelby and Paquita. Evidently she had hovered about, waiting for a chance to find him alone, and had at last succeeded.
Already Kennedy and Burke had seen them.
Paquita was talking earnestly. Of course, we could not overhear what was said, and they were so placed that even if we moved closer to them they would be likely to see us. Still, from our corner we could observe without being observed.
It seemed as if Paquita were making a desperate effort to attract Shelby, while, on his part, it was quite evident that he was endeavoring to get away.
Paquita was indeed a fascinating figure. From what I had already observed, a score of the young fellows about the Harbor House would have given their eyes to have been in Shelby’s place. Why was he seeking so to avoid her? Was it that he did not dare to trust himself with the little dancer? Or was there some hold that she had over him which he feared?
The interview had not proceeded long when Shelby deliberately seemed to excuse himself and walked away. Paquita looked after him as he hurried off, and I would have given much to have been close enough to observe her expression. Was it one of fury, of a woman scorned? At any rate, I would have wagered that it boded no good for Shelby.