'But the occasion will arise, believe me! Perhaps soon, at Sagan!' As she spoke she started violently, and her face turned white as Count Sagan stood before them.
'Do you feel inclined for a hand of whist, Counsellor?' he said abruptly, with a wrathful, questioning glance at his wife. 'Has my wife been boring you with her chatter?'
'On the contrary, Major Counsellor has promised to join us at the Castle next week,' exclaimed his wife.
Sagan's bloodshot eyes darkened. He had the guile of a plotter, but lacked something of the self-control. Counsellor, who appeared to be watching the dancers, turned upon this and added:
'And I have been thanking Madame de Sagan for the invitation.'
'Ah, I knew you wouldn't come! Well, you will lose nothing. We shall have a houseful of fools,' interrupted the Count roughly.
'I have already accepted, and will with your permission, Count, be one of the fools,' replied Counsellor genially.
The Countess understood she had in some way put her foot in it, but as the two men walked away together she nodded complacently to herself, with the words, 'I know what I know!'
The tide of dancers still swept backwards and forwards as Madame de Sagan idly observed them, until her glance chanced to fall upon the opposite couple at the further end of the saloon. Something in Valerie's air fixed her wandering attention at once with a little shock. What was Rallywood saying to her? And where was Anthony Unziar? The Countess Isolde had to the full the all-devouring vanity of her type, but now, for once in her life, she felt desirous of forwarding a love affair that was not her own.
'You are going to Sagan, of course?' Valerie had said to her partner as they stood together.