His lordship was silent for a minute, and the smile faded, leaving his face strangely harsh. A tiny snap sounded under his fingers. He glanced down at them, and the grim look left his face. “I’ve spoiled your fan, Ju,” he said, and gave it her back. Two of the sticks were broken at the shoulder. “I’ll give you another.”
Juliana was looking at him in considerable awe. “You haven’t answered me,” she said, with an uncertain laugh.
“What I might do is — happily for you — not in the least like what Comyn will do,” he replied.
“No,” she said sadly. “But can you understand that I wish it were?”
“My deluded child, one taste of my lamentable temper would send you flying into your Frederick’s arms,” said the Marquis, and rose. “Where’s Mary Challoner?”
“She wouldn’t come.”
“Why not?”
“To say truth, Vidal, I believe she did not desire to meet you.”
“Fiend seize her!” said his lordship unemotionally, and went off.
Miss Marling emerged from her alcove to find him gone. When he did not reappear she realized that he had left the ball, and had no difficulty in guessing his present whereabouts.