“Should you care to stay? As in that case I think I could manage to square my mother.”
“It would be better not to bother her about it, perhaps—of course, it might be very pleasant to stay,” I answered confusedly.
The way in which he had asked the question had given me a strange sensation for a moment.
“I dare say it is not any argument, but I shall be very sorry if you go.”
I went on with the buttoning of my gloves without answering.
“For one reason, I should like you to see what it gets like towards the end.”
Nugent’s eyes were fixed on mine across the intervening woodcock and tipsy cake with more inquiry than seemed necessary, but as he finished speaking a little troop of men came in together for a supplementary supper, and I forgot everything but my own guilty conscience, as among them I saw Willy. It was, however, evident that he had not come with any gluttonous intent, for, after a cursory look round the room over people’s heads, he walked out.
“Did you see Willy?” I said, in a scared whisper.
“Yes, perfectly. He was probably looking for you.”
“Oh, I know he was!” I said, beginning to gather up my fan and other belongings. “I ought to go at once. I am engaged to him for the extras.”