"My dear little friend, how wretchedly tired you must be, and then bothering with that woman. Why can she not humbug someone else beside you?" he says, hurrying forward and taking her hands in his. Probably Sir Barry was rather cross at not having seen Dolores more often during the past few days; and Dolores, despite her independent spirit, is very thankful for his thought for her.
"I have done all I can," she replies sadly, and Sir Barry, terribly afraid the next thing she will do will be to cry, goes on quickly.
"Did you know Major Gray was talking of leaving here very soon?"
Now those are the very words Dolores has been dreading to hear. She knows perfectly well things cannot go on forever as they have been lately, and now her heart goes down into her boots, if such a feeling is possible.
"I must go immediately and ask about the arrangements," she says faintly.
"And there is something I want to say to you. Can I see you this evening?" and Sir Barry waits for her answer.
Dolores' pretty face flushes; she looks past Sir Barry, down the long hall, and out to the blue sky beyond.
"Not to-night; some other time," she answers gently. Then, before Sir Barry can plead more, she leaves him. But he is far from unhappy, as he strolls down to the hotel office to smoke a sociable cigar with the Major.