"Splendid affair," Bill went on. "Looks like Fairyland or some enchanted garden. I was wafted in on the strains of the orchestra, and I can scarcely hold myself down on terra firma. But I mustn't monopolise the prince and princess of this magic realm. I'll try for a few words, later, but now I must make way for the crowd behind me. Oh, how do you do, Patty? How are you? You're looking splendid. And Daisy! Well, it's good to see you again. By the way, Daisy, I saw Lou Standish last week in Arizona. He sent greetings to you."
"Oh, did you, Bill? Did you see Lou? Tell me more about him."
Patty turned aside, her gaiety suddenly gone. What did Bill Farnsworth mean by treating her like that? A blank stare from him would have surprised her no more than those few careless words, flung at her hastily, as if she were the merest acquaintance. She felt as if a bucket of ice water had been splashed on her head and was still trickling down her shoulders.
"Come back, Miss Fairfield," she heard somebody saying gaily, and with a start she realised she had been staring blankly into vacancy so stunned was she by Farnsworth's manner.
It was Sam Blaney who spoke, and as he had taken her hand and still held it, Patty suddenly recovered her poise and spirits.
"Time's up, Mr. Blaney," she laughed. "You have had my hand fully three minutes, and that's the limit. Somebody else may want it."
"Possession is nine points of the law," said Blaney, still retaining her hand.
"But appropriation isn't possession," and Patty gently withdrew her hand from his detaining fingers.
"No, possession must be granted. Perhaps some time——"
"Some time——" Patty assented, smiling, and dismissing Blaney, as more and more people came along.