She smiled back a little wistfully. "I begin to think you could be almost anything, Nick," she said.
He shot her a swift glance, and it seemed to her for a moment that he was looking for a double meaning to her words. But apparently he found none, for he smiled again with the comfortable remark, "Ah, well, it's a useful faculty if exercised with discretion. What are you going to wear to-night? Let's hear all about it!"
That was the new Nick all over, displaying the male denseness with which she had never been wont to credit him. She gave him details of her costume without much ardour, he listening with careless comments.
"You don't sound very keen," he said suddenly. "I believe you're getting blasé."
"These things get a little monotonous, don't they?" said Sir Reginald.
His smile was sympathetic. She felt inexplicably that he understood her better than did Nick. He had fathomed the deadly weariness that Nick had overlooked.
"Go on!" commanded Nick. "Who are you going to dance with?"
She hesitated a little, and he turned his hand and pinched her fingers somewhat mercilessly. "Noel of course—he's too handsome to refuse, isn't he? And the rest of the boys will expect their share, doubtless. But remember—the supper-dances are mine."
She started a little. "Oh, Nick dear, I'm afraid I've promised those already."
"To whom?" said Nick swiftly.