"Oh, dear! How do I know?" she laughed.
"You won't give me a hint as to the complexion of my chances?"
She paused, turning. "The chances, Mr. Amber," she said without affection or coquetry, "are all in your favour … if you can prove your case. I do like you very much, and you have been successful in rousing my interest in you to an astonishing degree…. But I shall have to think it over; you must allow me at least twelve hours' grace."
"You'll let me know to-morrow morning?"
"Yes."
"Early?"
"You've already been bidden to breakfast by Mr. Raikes."
"Meanwhile, may I have my photograph?"
"Mine, if you please!… I think not; if my decision is favourable, you shall have it back—after breakfast."
"Thank you," he said meekly. And as they were entering the Residency he hung back. "I'm going now," he said; "it's good-night. Will you remember you've not refused me the privilege of hoping?"