Courtney’s face was sufficiently mask-like to hide whatever feelings he experienced, and accustomed enough to all contingencies to smile with its usual ease.
“Tell me, then,” he presently inquired, “aren’t you going to come dancing with me any more?”
“Possibly.”
“There’s going to be a bon affair at the Country Club in the shape of an informal free-for-all for clubbers and guests. It’s on Wednesday. You’d better come.”
“Well, Ted,” she sighed, after a moment’s hesitation, “I’m on. What time?”
“Expect me at nine—and thanks awfully.”
The cribbage game was soon finished and Courtney, with a final bon mot, was striding towards his car, while Freda in an idle mood was thinking that, for all his shallow opulence and apparent emptiness, he possessed a social grace that was admittedly worth while.