“Love is a form of slavery, I should think. I’ve always steered clear of it, myself.”
“I rather thought you were taken with Polly.” Gita turned in something like panic from any further discussion of herself.
“Miss Pleyden? She is a most charming girl, but I am frank to say I hardly recall what she looks like, at the present moment. And I want as little as you do to be ‘taken’ with anyone.”
He was scowling at Gita, and she scowled back, unreasonably annoyed at his emphatic utterance.
“The music has stopped again and I must go out and row Eustace,” she said haughtily. “Please go ahead. I’ve my slippers to put on.”
“May I——”
“No! That is something I do for myself. Kindly go.”
CHAPTER XXIV
A determined admirer of Miss Ryder cut in early in the dance and Eustace Bylant slipped out of the hall, found his overcoat and hat, and a moment later was driving his roadster furiously toward Atlantic City. Snow lay on the ground but the stars were brilliant overhead, and the clear frosty air cooled his hot face. His brain had not been too befuddled to receive a vibration from the misgiving in Gita’s, and he had skirted too many pitfalls during the past months to make a mistake tonight. He went to a hotel and took a cold shower, then visited a chemist who mixed him a reliable bromide.
He felt he had his own reasons for annoyance. It was like Gita to forget that after a man married a woman he would be expected to remain in her house unless they left at once on a wedding journey; but although he had thrown out several hints to that effect her mind had been too distracted to receive them. Nor had he been able to have a word with Elsie, who, however, might have been depended on not to overlook so important a detail.