“I know,” I said when she paused. “I had to have a pretext.”
She knew what I meant then and lowered her eyes.
“I still do not wish to hear Mr. Donnington’s message,” she said after a pause and in a very different tone.
“I do not wish to force it upon you now, and certainly not against your wish. I may be some months in Lisbon, and——”
“There is the band for the next dance, I must go,” she interposed.
“I have seen by your card that you have no partner; but if you wish me to leave you I will do so, or take you back to the viscontesse—unless you will give it to me.”
She leant back in her chair, her head bent, her brows gathered in a frown of perplexity and her fingers playing nervously with her fan.
“I do not wish to dance, Mr. Donnington, thank you,” she murmured.
“Just as you will.”
A long silence followed. She was agitated and I perplexed.