“Do not irritate Saxe Leinitzer,” he whispered. “Remember, everything must rest with him. Twice to-night you have brought that smile to his lips, and I never see it without thinking of unpleasant things.”
“You are right,” she answered; “but I hate him so. He and Muriel Carey seem to have entered into some conspiracy to lead me on to say things which I might regret.”
“Saxe Leinitzer,” he said, “has never forgotten that he once aspired to be your lover.”
“He has not failed to let me know it,” she answered. “He has even dared—ah!”
There was a sudden stir in the room. The library door was thrown open. The solemn-visaged butler stood upon the threshold.
“His Grace the Duke of Souspennier!” he announced.
CHAPTER XVIII
There was for the moment a dead silence. The soft patter of cards no longer fell upon the table. The eyes of every one were turned upon the newcomers. And he, leaning upon his stick, looked only for one person, and having found her, took no heed of any one else.
“Lucille!”