"About forty-eight hours," he answered.
"And what did you do last night?"
"I dined with two friends, we went to the Palace, and one of them took me to a supper club."
She made a little grimace.
"You began in somewhat obvious fashion," she remarked.
"I can vouch for the friends," the prince observed, smiling.
"At any rate," said Lady Hilda, "I am glad to think that I shall be able to watch you when you see Calavera dance for the first time."
The curtain rang up upon one of the most gorgeous and sensuous of the Russian ballets. John, who by their joint insistence was occupying the front chair in the box, leaned forward in his place, his eyes steadfastly fixed upon the stage. Both the prince and Lady Hilda, in the background, although they occasionally glanced at the performance, devoted most of their attention to watching him.
As the story progressed and the music grew in passion and voluptuousness, they distinctly saw his almost militant protest. They saw the knitting of his firm mouth and the slight contraction of his eyebrows. The prince and his friend exchanged glances. She drew her chair a little farther back, and he followed her example.
"Where did you find anything so wonderful as this?" she murmured.