“To you.”
“Not at all. I’m never surprised at anything!” Then just a trace of derision came into her face. “Won’t you present me, Mr. Harleston?”
“Certainly, I will,” he responded gravely, and arose.
“Another unexpected!” she mocked. “But she is good to look at, Guy, I must grant you that. Also—” and she laughed lightly.
“One moment,” said he tranquilly, and turned toward Mrs. Clephane—who had caught sight of him and was undecided what to do.
Now, smiling adorably, she came to meet him.
“The two beauties of the season!” he thought; and as he bowed over her hand he whispered: “Not a word of explanation now; and play ignorance of everything.—Understand?”
“I don’t understand—but I’ll do as you direct,” she murmured.
“I want to present you to Mrs. Spencer—the woman whom, you will recall, I asked you in the red-room if you recognized. Be careful, she is of the enemy—and particularly dangerous.”
“Everyone seems to be dangerous except myself,” she replied. “I’m an imbecile, or a child in arms.”