"A young man of character! Perhaps that goes with the Scotch costume. I have read the Scots are a noble people."
"They haven't a thing on the Americans. You must know me better and discover—"
But again her eyes had gone, almost guiltily, to that watch. And when she raised them again they were not smiling but very strangely resolved.
"Monsieur, it is so hot—if you would get me a glass of sherbet?"
"Certainly." Convention brought out the assent; convention turned him about and marched him dutifully toward the crowded table she indicated.
But something deeper than convention, some warning born of that too-often consulted watch and that strange look in her eyes, that uneasy fear and swift resolve, turned him quickly about again.
Other couples had strolled between them. He hurried through and stepped back among the palms.
The place was empty. The black domino was gone.
He wasted one minute in assuring himself that she was not hidden in some corner, not mingled with the crowd. But the niche was deserted as a rifled nest. Then his eyes spied the door that the green decorations had conspired to hide and he wrenched it open.