“No, thanks,” said Pem firmly.
There was a chorus of protests.
“Oh, come on, Pem!” Nickie entreated. “I don’t want to go alone with three fellows, and I’m dying for a dance. Please, Pem, just for an hour!”
“No, thanks,” said Pem again. “I’m sorry, but I don’t feel up to it. I’m tired.”
And then, beside her, she heard a voice which, in spite of herself, she could not hear unmoved.
“I say, Miss Pembroke! Please!”
She shook her head, but she smiled, for once more she caught a glimpse of that curious likeness, and it made her gentle toward him. What was it? What could she see in this flushed, unsteady boy to put her in mind of that other, fine and stern, a young knight?
“Look here!” said Caswell, bending lower, so that only she could hear. “Please don’t—don’t judge me by this. I—I’m—I can’t tell you how sorry I am for you to see me—like this. I—I don’t do it, you know, I give you my word. You see, I’ve[Pg 142] just come back from Melbourne, and this was my first night on shore, and—if you’d just give me another chance!”
“All right, I will,” said Pem suddenly. “I’ll see you again. I’ll be glad to.”
And she meant it. She no longer wanted to deny the unreasonable, half scornful liking she felt for this man. She did like him, and that was enough.