"I was in two minds about this meeting," he announced; "how glad I am now I came."
"Oh, are you?" she murmured vaguely.
"Yes, I needn't tell you that I would thankfully travel many miles to see you."
To this over-blown compliment Verona made no reply; she was wondering what he would say when he saw her mother and sisters!
In the distance she caught sight of Dominga, splendidly dressed, boisterous, shrill. A stranger might reasonably have suspected that this laughing and chattering was the effects of champagne—they would be mistaken. Dominga was merely intoxicated with her own supreme happiness, her extraordinary social success.
"I suppose you are out here for the cold weather?" resumed Captain Haig. "It is quite the thing to do now."
"No," she responded, "I am out for altogether—my people live here."
"Here," he repeated, "how fortunate! How I should like to make their acquaintance; I hope you will be good enough to present me to your mother."
"Certainly," she replied, with a somewhat fixed smile.
Very soon, she assured herself, there would be an end to this fool's paradise. It would be a case of he came—he saw—he fled.