“I’m not much good anywhere, as far as that goes,” said Winn, quickly, before the others came up. Then he said in a different voice, “I hope you enjoyed your dance last night.”
Claire paused the briefest moment before she answered him; it was as if she were trying quickly to change the key in which she spoke in order to meet his wishes, and as if she did not want to change the key.
“Yes, I did,” she said, “most awfully. It was a heavenly dance. I was so sorry you couldn’t come, but Captain Drummond told me why.”
Winn confounded Lionel under his breath for not holding his tongue; but he felt a warmth stir in his heart at the knowledge that, no matter what was at stake, Lionel would not suffer the shadow of blame to attach itself to him. It had been one of Winn’s calculations that Claire would be annoyed at his disappointing her and think the less of him because she was annoyed. He was not a clever calculator.
“Of course I understood,” Claire went on; “you had to be with poor Mr. Bouncing. It was just like you to stay with him.” She had said a good deal, considering that Mr. Ponsonby and Lionel were there. Still, Winn did not misunderstand her. Of course she meant nothing.
“Well,” he said, holding out his hand, “I’m extremely glad, Miss Rivers, to have run across you like this, because I’m off this afternoon to St. Moritz. I want to have a look at the Cresta.”
Claire ignored his outstretched hand.
“Oh,” she cried a little breathlessly, “you’re not going away, are you? But you’ll come back again, of course?”
“I hope so, I’m sure, some day or other,” said Winn. Then he turned to Ponsonby. “Have you been down the Cresta?” he asked.
Mr. Ponsonby shook his head.