Those little, red shoes would dance on his grave. Was she asleep now? How would she know? What would she know?
Then Letty Lane, too, spirited away, and the boy’s thoughts turned to the man he was to meet. “The affairs are purely formal,” he had heard some one say, “an exchange of balls, without serious results.”
One of his companions offered Blair a cigar. He refused, the idea sickened him. Here the gentlemen exchanged glances, and one murmured, “Is he afraid?”
The other shrugged.
“Not astonishing—he’s a child.”
At this Dan glanced up and smiled—what Lily, Duchess of Breakwater, had called his divine young smile. The two secretly were ashamed—he was charming.
As they got out of the motor Dan said:
“I want to ask a question of Prince Poniotowsky—if it is allowed. I’ll write it on my card.”
After a conference between Prince Poniotowsky’s seconds and Dan’s, the slip was handed the prince.
“If you get out all right, will you marry Miss Lane? I shall be glad to know.”