“Oh,” she sighed softly, “and I did so want to dance once again! Just once again!”
“But what happened? The man is mad!” cried Mr. Dunn. “Did you soothe him, Lady Vest? Did he see the absurdity of his suspicions, did he apologise for his behaviour?”
But it was as though the lady was not heeding his words. As they made to walk on up Regent Street she smiled absently into his concerned face and sighed: “And, oh, I did so want to dance with you just once again! But just imagine my indiscretion, running after you like this! and all because of my overpowering desire to dance with you once again. It will not occur again, I promise you, Mr. Dunn. But, oh, just to do those new movements of the Blues once again!”
“Dear Lady Vest,” said Mr. Dunn sincerely, “there is nothing I would enjoy more. Besides, it will soothe us. See, here we are at the doors of the Criterion, where, I am told, one may dance with comfort and propriety. But won’t you tell me first about the issue of Lord Vest’s temper? He was very angry? And you soothed him?”
“Oh, yes, yes! I soothed him, indeed. Look, Mr. Dunn! Oh, look! There is an owl perched on the fountain yonder, on the left wing of Eros! Just fancy, Mr. Dunn, an owl! Did you ever hear of such a thing!”
“Holy smoke, you’re right!” said Mr. Dunn. “An owl, or I’m a Dutchman! There’s never been an owl there before, that I’ll swear.”
“See,” cried Lady Vest with a strange exaltation, “see, it is staring at us! Mr. Dunn, do you know what that owl, a bird of wise omen, means? Can you imagine, Mr. Dunn! It means the doom of my lord. And what a doom!”
“Holy smoke!” said Mr. Dunn, starting back from her. “Lady Vest, you haven’t—you haven’t kil——”
“Listen, Mr. Dunn!” And she held him by the arm, looking into his eyes with sweet, sad dignity, whilst all about them passed the gay crowds that love to throng Piccadilly Circus, and the electric advertisements lit the scene with a festive glamour; nor ever did the owl stir from its station on the fountain.
“Listen, Mr. Dunn! When you had made your escape, my husband revealed the true state of his mind by drawing a revolver. He was mad. I did not know what to do. I screamed, and on the second butler’s rushing into the room without knocking on the door the poor fellow was hurled from the house. But in the meanwhile I had managed to grab hold of the revolver. What could I do, Mr. Dunn? I ask you, what could I do?”