“Pin this pretty thing in the front of my band, please, Cleopatra. Be sure you get it in the right place.”
She held out the diamond star. Cleopatra took it without comment and fastened it in position hastily.
“Sit down,” Joan invited, “your next partner will find you here when he comes. Tell us about Cæsar and Antony and all the rest of your disreputable past. Make it exciting.”
Cleopatra shook her head.
“Sorry I can’t stop just now. Neither Julius nor Antony put in an appearance to-night, so I’m spending my arts on a mere centurion. He’s a stickler for punctuality—being a Roman soldier.”
She glanced at her wrist-watch.
“I must fly at once. O reservoir! as we say in Egypt, you know.”
With a nod of farewell, she hastened along the alley and out of the winter-garden.
“She seems a trifle nervous about something,” Sir Clinton commented, indifferently.
Joan smoothed down her filmy tunic.