Elsa drew away and there was a silence in the room. The others began to feel uncomfortable as Millar looked slowly from one to the other of them. One or two essayed conversation, and his cutting, insolent replies sent them scurrying from the room. In a few moments only he and Elsa remained in the apartment. From the adjoining ballroom came the strains of music and the sound of dancing and bright laughter. Millar looked at Elsa.
"Now they are gone," he said.
"Are you not surprised that I did not go also?" she asked. "You offended me, you know, but I stayed because I want to talk with you."
"How charming," Millar said with gentle sarcasm.
"Perhaps you know my nickname—Saucy Elsa?" said the girl warningly.
"Oh, yes."
"Then you should know that your Chesterfieldian manners embarrass me," Elsa said impatiently as Millar bowed again before her. "I have selected you to deliver a most impudent message to that crowd in there, because you are so perfectly impolite."
"I am entirely at your disposal, mademoiselle."
"How can I be impudent, though, when you are so polite to me?" she cried petulantly.
"Shall we end the conversation, then?"