"Anywhere."
He let his hand glide softly from the back of the chair to her shoulder.
At the touch of his fingers, she slipped away from him with a noiseless movement, and rose to her feet.
"Then follow me back to the salon!" she said in a voice that still sounded high and light.
There was a constrained pause, but it was one of short duration. Deerehurst was not the man to be easily taken at a disadvantage. For one instant a glimmering of chagrin showed on his composed face; the next it was gone. He straightened his dignified figure, and felt mechanically for his eyeglass.
"'Pon my word!" he said. "I believe you are Circe. Use your prerogative!"
He turned, laughed a little, and indicated the salon with a courtly gesture.
Clodagh looked at him. He puzzled and disconcerted her. To one whose innate instinct was a yielding to impulse, his absolute impassivity in face of disconcerting situations was something incomprehensible. And now, as he stepped aside to give her passage, she gave a quick laugh, expressive of both embarrassment and relief; and crossed the balcony with a certain instinctive haste.
During their absence, the crowd in the salon had increased; the press about the roulette-table had become denser; while at half a dozen card-tables, sheltered from the general gathering by large screens of old Italian leather-work, parties of four were playing bridge.
Ignoring these latter groups, Clodagh crossed the room towards the roulette-table, and paused upon the outskirts of the crowd that surrounded it.