The hilt of a sword was thrust slightly forward. “Why, I would meet you for the honour of holding her hand,” said the Unknown. “But she shall choose.” He turned, and offered an arm. “Madam, will you walk?”
She looked beseechingly at Prudence. “Mr Merriot, I have to choose l’Inconnu because I am a female, and they say the silly creatures love a mystery.”
Prudence laughed and bowed. “I retire from the lists, then, cruel Pink Domino.”
“Besides,” said Letty coaxingly, “your crimson and my rose go vilely together, sir!” She threw a smile over her shoulder as she went off, threading her way through the throng of people.
“Bereft, my Peter?”
Prudence started, and turned to face Sir Anthony, standing at her elbow, “Robbed, sir, by a man in a black domino. I chose the wrong colour, and Miss Grayson won’t stay to clash with my crimson.”
“So the mysterious stranger filches the lady from you. Too bad, my dear boy. Come and drown your sorrows in claret.”
Out on the terrace, under a starry sky, the Unknown raised Miss Grayson’s hand to his lips, and held it there a long moment. She shivered a little, and her eyes widened.
“Take off the mask!” He spoke little above a whisper. “Oh — no!” she said, and drew her hand away.
“Ah, don’t deny me!” An arm slid round her shoulders, and deft fingers sought the mask’s string over her ear.