The young man could have gone after, running behind the motor, but there was a taxicab at hand; he jumped in it, ordering the man to follow the car to the Savoy. There the boy had the pleasure of seeing Miss Lane enter the hotel, Poniotowsky with her—had the anguish of seeing them both go up in the lift to her apartments.
When Dan came to himself he heard the chimes of St. Martin’s ring out eleven. He then remembered for the first time that he had promised to dine alone at home with the Duchess of Breakwater.
“Gosh, Lily will be wild!”
In spite of the lateness of the hour he hurried to Park Lane. The familiar face of the manservant who let him in blurred before the young man’s eyes. Her grace was out at the theater? Blair would wait then, and he went into the small drawing-room, quiet, empty, reposeful, with a fire across the andirons, for the evening was damp and cool. Still dazed by his jealous, passionate emotions, he glanced about the room, chose a long leather sofa, and stretching out his length, fell asleep. There in the shadow he slept profoundly, waking suddenly to find that he was not alone. Across the room the Duchess of Breakwater stood by the table; she was in evening dress, her cloak and gloves on the chair at her side. She laughed softly and the man to whom she laughed, on whom she smiled, was Lord Galorey.
Blair raised himself up on the sofa without making any noise, and he saw Galorey take the woman in his arms. The sight didn’t make the fiancée angry. He realized instantly that he wanted to believe that it was true, and as there was nothing theatrical in the young Westerner, he sprang up, slang so much a part of his nature that the first words that came to his lips was a phrase in vogue.
“Look who’s here!” he cried, and came blithely forward, his head clear, his lips smiling.
The duchess gave a little scream and Dan lounged up to the two people and held his hand frankly out to the lady.
“That’s all right, Lily! Go right on, Gordon, please. Only I had to let you know when I waked up! Only fair. I guess I must have been asleep quite a while.”
The Duchess of Breakwater shrugged. “I don’t know what you dreamed,” she said acidly, “if you were asleep.”
“Well, it was a very pretty dream,” the boy returned, “and showed what a stupid ass I’ve been to think I couldn’t have dreamed it when I was awake.”