Sally drew herself up with a disdainful air. She had a fine figure and she knew how to display it.
"What?" she cried. "Do you dare to deny your farewell embrace?"
"Madam—really I——"
He was more embarrassed than ever. It was untrue to say that he had kissed her. The kisses were hers and hers alone, but it would be ungallant to tell her so. He cursed the evil star which had chanced to throw her against him at such a crisis. Lavinia might make her appearance at any moment and what would she think?
But the stars had nothing to do with the matter, nor chance either. It was a ruse, a worked out design between Sally and Rofflash to secure Vane and spite Lavinia whom she hated more than enough.
Meanwhile Lavinia was drawing near. Mistress Salisbury had shifted her position and had manoeuvred so as she could glance down the path to St. James's Palace and perforce Vane had his back towards it. Sally's sharp eyes caught sight of a figure which she shrewdly guessed was Lavinia's.
Preparing herself for a crowning piece of craft, Sally suddenly relaxed her rigidity and inclined langorously towards Vane who had no alternative save catching her. No sooner did she feel his arms than she sank gracefully into them, her handkerchief to her eyes.
"Madam," stammered the troubled young man, "pray recollect yourself. I protest——"
"Protest! Oh, how cruel—how hard hearted! I love you. Can you hear me make such a confession and be unmoved? I throw myself at your feet."
"For God's sake, madam, don't do anything so foolish."