“Why must you go back in such a hurry?” he resumed composedly. “One can watch the fête very well here.”
“I’m going to a dance—at the Gloria,” said Ann. “Some one—they are coming to fetch me, and if I’m not there—”
“‘They’ will be disappointed,” he finished for her, a veiled irony in his voice. “What time do your friends expect you?”
“At ten.”
“And it is now only nine. If you care to watch the fête a little longer, I can land you wherever you wish and you would still be in good time. I will guarantee your safety,” he added with a smile.
Ann hesitated. On the one hand she was thoroughly enjoying the water-fête as viewed from the security of the Englishman’s motor-boat, and the unconventionality of the circumstances added a spice of adventure to the situation. On the other, like every properly brought up young woman, she was quite aware of what would be Mrs. Grundy’s pronouncement on such a matter.
“You’ll stay?” said the Englishman.
It savoured more of a command than a question. Metaphorically Ann threw Mrs. Grundy overboard into the lake.
“Yes, I’ll stay,” she answered.
He accepted her decision without any outward sign of satisfaction, and she experienced a slight chill of disappointment. Perhaps, after all, he had only asked her to remain a little longer, not because he really desired the pleasure of her company, but merely in order that he might not be inconvenienced by the necessity of taking her back to Montricheux before he himself was ready to go. She had all the sensitiveness of youth and, once this idea had presented itself to her, she felt self-conscious and ill at ease, only anxious for the moment to arrive when she need no longer trespass on his hospitality.