“On the contrary,” answered Poniotowsky coolly, “he shoots to perfection. You will be surprised to hear that I admire his refusal. I accept his decision, as his skill is unquestioned with arms. I choose to look upon this reply as an apology. I would like to have you inform Mr. Blair of this fact. He’s young enough to be my son, and he is a barbarian. The incident is closed.”
He put Letty Lane’s note in his pocket, and leisurely prepared to go out on the Rue de Castiglione to buy her a Pomeranian dog.
CHAPTER XXXIII—THE THINGS ABOVE GROUND
Higgins let him in, and across the room Blair saw the figure of the actress against the light of the long window. Her back was to him as he came up, and though she knew who it was, she was far from dreaming how different a man it was that came in to see her this morning from the one she had known.
“Won’t you turn around and bid me good-by?” he asked her. “I’m going away.”
She gave him a languid hand without looking at him.
“Has Higgins gone?”
“Yes. Won’t you turn round and say how-de-do, and good-by? Gosh,” he cried as she turned, “how pale you are, darling.” And he took her in his arms.
The vision he had had of her in her coral-colored dress at Maxim’s gave place to the more radiant one which had shone on him in his curious dream.
“Are you very ill?” he murmured. “Speak to me—tell me—are you going to die?”