She had taken off her long white gloves to eat a cake–or cakes; she was carrying them loosely swinging from one dimpled hand.
In the middle of the room self-consciousness overtook her. With the awakening sense of eyes upon her, she looked first to one side, then to the other. Her smile broadened while growing by just a tinge sheepish; she seemed to waver and consider turning from her course and finishing her journey close along the wall, like a mouse....
She finally did not, nor yet hurried. She made her smile explain to whoever was looking on that a person was excusable for making this sort of mistake, that it hurt nobody, that one need not and did not care; that she was sure they did not like her any less for it; they would not if they knew how void of offense toward them all was her heart; that having exposed herself to being looked at, she hoped they liked her looks. Her dress was a very good dress, her laces were very good lace, and the maid who had done her hair was considered a first-rate hand at doing hair.
So she was carrying it off, and her smile was only a little self-conscious, only a shade embarrassed, when from among the men standing near the library door, for which she was directly making, there stepped out one to meet her, not unlike 61a slender needle darting toward a large, rounded magnet as it comes into due range.
More sensitive than she, feeling the situation much more uncomfortably for his countrywoman than she felt it for herself, a foreign-looking fellow, who had not quite forgotten that he was an American, after a moment’s hard struggle against his impulse, hastened forward to shorten for her that uncompanioned course across the floor under ten thousand search-lights.
“I’m looking for somebody,” said Mrs. Hawthorne, with the smile of a child.
The voice which had made one man think of the crimson heart on a valentine reminded this other of rough velvet.
He showed his eccentric three front teeth in a responding smile that had a touch of the faun, and asked whimsically:
“Will I do?”
“Help me to find Mr. Foss, and you’ll do perfectly,” she said merrily. “I haven’t seen him more than just to shake hands this whole evening, and I do want to have a little talk before I go.”