He shrugged his shoulders.
"Of course, my dear, but a little sport to kill the tedium of this infernal wait—the monotony of the thing is getting on my nerves. John, will you look after Di while I at least watch the game?"
"Delighted," Sir John replied, but his anxious face showed that he thoroughly disapproved of the proceedings. "Really, Diana," he began, "let me prevail upon you to leave here. Any one who remains in a place of this kind is taking chances—oh, believe me—"
"Nonsense; it all looks deadly dull to me."
The men, recognizing a quietly gowned gentle-woman, paid no attention to them.
"Why, I'm not afraid, John. What's liable to happen?"
Sir John Applegate's mind was filled with stories of the West he had heard and read in his boyhood days.
"Why, these desperadoes are liable to come in here and request you to dance—dance for their amusement, by Jove!"
"Well, what of that? We don't do it," Diana teasingly interrupted.
"Oh yes, my dear Diana, we do do it. The request is an order, you know—obligatory—oh, quite? Because, believe me, if we do not accede to their absurd request, they playfully shoot your toes off, by Jove! They are shockingly rude, by Jove! these chaps, believe me—oh, shockingly!"