As he gave him a note—
“Thanks to you—yes,” he said, smiling. “Good night—and many thanks.”
It would have been brutal to tell him anything else.
At last Punch found Athalia, by going from pillar to post. She was staying at the Palais, had dined out and come back to dance.
They danced a few steps. Then he led her out of the ballroom and into the August night.
“What is it?” she said.
“He’s here somewhere. Has he spoken?”
Athalia looked away.
“Not yet,” she said slowly. “Not yet, but—I think he will . . . any moment, now.”