“Well, Armand,” she said, “if we are to be at our dear cousin’s rear gate at eleven, I suppose it’s the last moment for me to change my gown, this one isn’t especially appropriate—have you anything in particular to suggest?”
“Nothing,” he smiled, “nothing; except that you don’t make yourself any more attractive than is absolutely unavoidable.”
“And that I conceal my identity as much as possible, I suppose?”
“Undoubtedly—and the more effective the concealment, the better.”
She laid aside the cards she was shuffling and arose.
“Will you come with me, Elise?” she asked. “You can help me with the disguise.”
Moore closed the door behind them, and going over to a side-table poured out a very stiff drink.
“I don’t like it!” he said, turning around, the glass half emptied, and tossing off the remainder; “I don’t like it, a little bit!”
“Then it’s appalling to think what you would take if you did like it,” the Archduke commented.
The Colonel laughed and poured out a trifle more.