Her lids suddenly lifted, and she looked oddly at him.
"Madison Square?" she questioned swiftly.
He nodded. "Yes. I—er—just wanted to walk a little where it was quiet and I could think. Then I joined my friends, and drove with them to Sherry's. I hadn't been there half an hour before I saw you."
"I suppose it did seem a trifle odd," she remarked, glancing out of the window.
"Odd doesn't quite express it. There you were in a wonderful gown with pearls and things, and talking to three or four men at once as if you'd known them all your life. Of course, I couldn't believe my senses at first; and when at last I was sure, I—well, it was all so bewildering and impossible that I couldn't seem to stay there."
"You mean you couldn't stay because you thought I'd been deceiving you?" she said quietly.
"There didn't seem to be any other explanation," he pleaded. "Next day I came to my senses, and knew that there must be some other reason. Of what it could be I hadn't the most remote conception; but I knew that you weren't the sort to make believe to that extent; and it was a big relief, I can tell you."
He hesitated a second, and bent forward slightly, his forehead wrinkled and his eyes fixed intently on her lovely face.
"Please forgive me," he begged, "and admit that there were extenuating circumstances."
CHAPTER XXX.