"No, Sir Galahad, I didn't," Phyllis answered.
"Where's your monk, Friar Tuck; I thought he was with you?" Sir Galahad inquired.
"Did you?" Phyllis asked sweetly. She was not mumbling, but her voice was not at all natural and she had no fear of the knight's recognizing her for she felt quite sure she did not know him.
"But I don't understand. When I last saw you, Howard was going to take you into the library and teach you to dance and John was going with you." Sir Galahad was perplexed.
"Yet here I am." Phyllis was hugely enjoying herself. There was no doubt that he took her for Janet, and she delighted in teasing him.
"Do you mean to tell me that they went off and left you?" Two dark eyebrows that contrasted oddly with the golden wig came together in a frown just above the black mask.
"Perhaps,"—Phyllis threw a note of sorrow into her voice, and her eyes looked up into his without a hint of laughter.
"I never heard of such a thing," he said angrily, and something in the way he said it brought back a sudden memory to Phyllis and made her eyes dance. She lowered them quickly, for it was just possible that Don's cousin might prove as clever as Don.
The knight sat down beside her on the bench and rested his sword beside him.
"What's your name?" he asked presently.