"Quite," he agreed. "Which accounts, no doubt, for your failure to see them."
"Mrs. Gaston will be looking for me before—" she began hesitatingly.
"Or Mr. White, perhaps. Let me remind you that they have exceedingly sharp eyes."
"Mr. White is no longer here," she announced.
His heart leaped. "Then I, at least, have nothing to fear," he said quickly.
She ignored the banality. "He left this afternoon. Very well, let us take the seats over there. I rather like the—shall I say shadows?"
"I too object to the limelight,—Bedelia," he said, offering her his arm.
"You are not to call me Bedelia," she said, holding back.
"Then 'forgive us our transgressions' is to be applied in the usual order, I presume."
"Are you sorry you called me Bedelia?" she insisted, frowning ominously.