"What a charming room," he said, advancing to greet his hostess. "Charming!"
"Blunderer!" retorted that lady in her contralto voice, which boomed like the buzz of a bee in a fox glove bell. "You should say, what charming ladies."
"You would think me too bold if I put my thoughts into words."
"Very cleverly turned, young man. But women never think men are too bold when they pay compliments."
Hench laughed and smiled in a friendly way at Gwen, who was smiling in a friendly way at him. She looked wonderfully fresh, attractively delightful, as delicate as Titania and wholly as fascinating. Her dress of plain white silk adorned with black ribbons, hinting at mourning, became her well in its dainty simplicity, and Owain felt again that queer heart-throb which informed him very distinctly that this was the one girl in the world for him. No woman could be lovely unless she had golden hair and blue eyes and a complexion of cream and roses. He wondered how he ever could have admired Zara, who did not possess these necessary charms. But when he was attracted by the dancer he was a fool, now he intended to be a wise man and lay his heart at Gwen's feet. Whether she would pick it up had yet to be seen, for she gave no intimation of her feelings.
"When you two finish grinning at one another like a couple of Chinese dolls, perhaps you will remember that I am present. Sit down, young man. Are you very hungry? I have a very good dinner for you."
"Splendid! I'm not hungry, Mrs. Perage, but I am greedy."
"Pooh! That joke is as old as the hills. Be more original."
"That's difficult. How can I be original, Miss Evans?" Hench asked the question with ceremonious courtesy, which made Mrs. Perage smile, knowing what she did know.
"I think you are original," said Gwen brightly. "You saved my life!"