"Good evening, Mrs. Milbanke!" he added in the same level voice.
At his glance and his words, Clodagh's expression changed. The vague excitement of the past hours seemed suddenly to focus itself. She realised abruptly that she had not yet vindicated her right to the joy of life. With exaggerated difference she bent her head in acknowledgment of his greeting; and almost immediately turned to Deerehurst.
"Lord Deerehurst!" she said, very softly and distinctly, "I want you to do me a favour to-night! I want you to teach me to play roulette!"
It was her declaration of war—the moment towards which she had unconsciously been tending ever since the interview of the afternoon. She knew it instantly the words had left her lips—knew it by the quick surprise in Barnard's eyes, the sharp curiosity in Lady Frances Hope's, the veiled triumph in Deerehurst's, and the cold disapprobation in Sir Walter Gore's. Without another glance she turned away and walked slowly forward across the salon, to where a couple of dozen people were grouped about the roulette-table.
As she moved deliberately forward, many heads were turned in her direction, but she was heedless and almost unobservant of the interest she evoked. Her heart was beating fast, she was rejoicing recklessly in her vindicated independence.
Deerehurst overtook her, as she halted by the roulette-table. And she was conscious of his presence without looking round.
"Will you stake for me?" she said in a quick undertone. "You were lucky the other night."
He stepped forward, smiling with a cold touch of wisdom, and took the coin she handed to him.
"What! A convert!" cried Luard, who was again officiating at the game. "Luck to you, Mrs. Milbanke!"
He gave a pleasant laugh, as her coin touched the table, and a moment later set the ball spinning.