The incident of their meeting was faultlessly correct; also, when Lady Lothwell appeared, she presented him to Robin as if the brief ceremony were one of the most ordinary in existence.
They danced for a time without a word. She wondered if he could not feel the beating of her heart.
"That—is a beautiful waltz," he said at last, as if it were a sort of emotional confidence.
"Yes," she answered. Only, "Yes."
Once round the great ballroom, twice, and he gave a little laugh and spoke again.
"I am going to ask you a question. May I?"
"Yes."
"Is your name Robin?"
"Yes." She could scarcely breathe it.
"I thought it was. I hoped it was—after I first began to suspect. I hoped it was."