“Yes, to me,” spoke up a voice outside.
Polly started. How much had he overheard?
The musicians began another waltz.
“I’d better get out of the way,” said Russell in Polly’s ear. “Sorry I can’t have the pleasure—”
David Collins leaped the low rail. “Come, Polly!” he said.
The girl did not stir as Russell with a pleasant word passed inside. She was thinking hard.
“Come!” reiterated David. His voice was stern as he laid his hand on her arm. The motion was one of proprietorship.
“You take a good deal for granted,” spoke Polly at last. “Hadn’t you better sit down?”
“Your implication sounds rather rude to my ears,” smiled Polly.