"May I have the next dance, Sophie?" he inquired.
Sophie glanced up at him.
"I'm not dancing," she said.
Her averted face, the quiver of her lips, confirmed him in his resolution. He took in her dress, the black opals in her ear-rings swinging against her black hair and white neck. She had never looked more attractive, he thought, than in this unlovely dress and with the opals in her ears. The music was beginning for another dance. Across the room Henty was hovering with a bevy of girls.
"Why aren't you dancing, Sophie?" John Armitage asked.
His quiet, friendly tone brought the glitter of tears to her eyes.
"No one asked me to, until the dance before supper—then I didn't want to," she said.
The dance was already in motion.
"You'll have this one with me, won't you?"
John Armitage put the question as if he were asking a favour. "Please!" he insisted.