“So she is married, is she?” Selden remarked casually. “Is her husband with her here?”
“What?” and Davis came to himself with a start. “Yes—that is, she’s not exactly married, either—not as we understand it. You see, it’s like this....”
He stopped abruptly.
“I am sorry to have been so long,” said the baron’s voice, and Selden looked up to find him and the prince smiling down at them. At least the baron was smiling, most urbanely; but it was difficult to tell whether it was good-humour or suppressed chagrin that parted the prince’s lips. “You have amused each other, I hope?”
“Oh, yes,” said Selden; “we have been having a most interesting time.”
“Good!” and the baron sank down again into his chair, and polished his glass thoughtfully. “It is disgusting, but even here affairs of state sometimes intrude.”
The prince had resumed his seat against the wall and looked moodily at the champagne bottle. It was empty.
Selden caught the eye of the attentive waiter, who nodded and hurried away. He felt that he was upon the threshold of a most interesting disclosure, which a little more wine might precipitate. To be married, and at the same time not to be married! He was conscious that his objection to champagne confidences had considerably diminished. Besides, he wanted an excuse to stay awhile longer.
But a sudden silence had fallen upon Davis. He evidently felt himself back again in the infant class, and he glanced at the baron from time to time with a certain uneasiness, as a bad boy might glance at his master. The prince was also silent, staring fixedly at the table in front of him, his lips pursed, his brows contracted in a frown. As for the baron, he was puffing thoughtfully at a cigarette, his eyes on the ceiling, immersed perhaps in those affairs of state of which he had spoken.
So they remained until the waiter brought the new bottle and filled fresh glasses.