Dick was not a man of affairs, but he was not a fool. He knew that Clare Kenwardine was not the girl to attempt his captivation merely because he had shown himself susceptible. She wanted him to keep the others off, and he thought he understood this as he glanced at Lance’s companion. The fellow had a coarse, red face and looked dissipated, and even Lance’s well-bred air was somehow not so marked as usual. Well, he was willing that she should make any use of him that she liked.
They passed the others, and after stopping to tell Kenwardine that she was going out, Clare drew back a curtain that covered part of the window. Dick stepped across the ledge and, seeing that the stairs below were iron and rather slippery, held out his hand to Clare. The curtain swung back and cut off the light, and when they were near the bottom the girl tripped and clutched him. Her hand swept downward from his shoulder across his chest and caught the outside pocket of his coat, while he grasped her waist to steady her.
“Thank you,” she said. “I was clumsy, but the steps are awkward and my shoes are smooth.”
Dick was glad it was dark, for he felt confused. The girl had rested upon him for a moment and it had given him a thrill.
They crossed the broad lawn. Half of it lay in shadow, for a wood that rolled up a neighboring hillside cut off the light of the low, half moon. The air was still, it was too warm for dew, and there was a smell of flowers—stocks, Dick thought, and he remembered their pungent sweetness afterward when he recalled that night. Clare kept in the moonlight, and he noted the elusive glimmer of her white dress. She wore no hat or wrap, and the pale illumination emphasized the slenderness of her figure and lent her an ethereal grace.
They stopped at a bench beneath a copper-beech, where the shadow of the leaves checkered with dark blotches the girl’s white draperies and Dick’s uniform. Some of the others had come out, for there were voices in the gloom.
“Perhaps you wonder why I brought you here,” Clare said frankly.
“No,” Dick answered. “If you had any reason, I’m not curious. And I’d rather be outside.”
“Well,” she said, “the light was rather glaring and the room very hot.” She paused and added: “Mr. Brandon’s your cousin?”
“He is, and a very good sort. He brought me to-night, but I felt that it was, perhaps, something of an intrusion when you came in.”