“You run the risk yourself,” she protested.
He smiled.
“It is a different matter. By the bye, we are overheard.”
Lady Carey had forgotten to listen any more to the music. She was watching them both, a steely light in her eyes, her fingers nervously entwined. The Prince was still absent.
“Pray do not consider me,” she begged. “So far as I am concerned, your conversation is of no possible interest. But I think you had better remember that the Prince is in the corridor just outside.”
“We are much obliged to you,” Mr. Sabin said. “The Prince may hear every word I have to say about him. But all the same, I thank you for your warning.”
“I fear that we are very unsociable, Muriel,” Lucille said, “and, after all, I should never have been here but for you.”
Lady Carey turned her left shoulder upon them.
“I beg,” she said, “that you will leave me alone with the music. I prefer it.”
The Prince suddenly stood upon the threshold. His hand rested lightly upon the arm of another man.