“Miss Wharton,” he began, “I fear I’ve been put somewhat under a cloud.”
“Really,” she answered sweetly, “how so?”
A little disconcerted but undismayed, he continued:
“Because of the manner of our meeting.”
“Our meeting!” she said uncertainly.
“At the Assembly, you know. I thought perhaps that—you thought—I’d asked to be presented.”
“Didn’t you? Then, how did we happen to meet?”
He could not but admire her sang-froid. She was smiling a non-committal smile at the centerpiece.
“Er—I should explain. I was adrift and Barclay came to my rescue. I give you my word, I had no notion it was to you he was taking me. It was all over in a second.”