“I thought you had forgotten,” Brenda said.
He remembered that for a time he had forgotten. It seemed incredible now, with the small warm hand in his, and the sense of comradeship which the nearness of her, the friendly light in her eyes, conveyed, that ever it had been a matter of indifference to him whether he saw her again. There was not a shadow of doubt as to his pleasure at the moment.
She drew her hand away.
“The management may be watching me,” she said.
“Oh bother! There is always some one watching you,” he returned. “No matter! We will have our talk out where no one can watch us save the stars. It’s jolly that you’re here... I’m not going to lose sight of you again.”
He arranged to meet her that evening and parted from her feeling extraordinarily dated. He looked back when he had paid his score and was passing out to smile across the room at her. Then he pushed the swing door and emerged upon the pavement to discover his late companions, rather silent and faintly displeased, waiting by the kerb for him.
“Well, we can never go in there again!” Rosie said, in tones charged with inner meaning.
It was so obvious that she wanted him to inquire the reason for this taboo that he did not ask it; instead he remarked cheerfully:
“That’s the biggest surprise I’ve had—and about the pleasantest. I never expected to run across Miss Upton like that.”
“We didn’t imagine you knew her,” May said. “When she served us I saw who it was, but of course one couldn’t speak to her. She ought not to stay in Cape Town.”