“I dare say we ought to take more interest in politics.”
Mrs. Boots, who was beyond Mr. Cutty, left Dare long enough to interpose, “Why not persuade Mr. Eveley to be a candidate in the coming elections?”
Dare had seized his reprieve to whisper to Miriam, “Does all this, to-night, make you feel fearfully alone?”
Miriam looked up as though he had startled into flight some bird of ill-omen, but made no reply.
Dare leaned a little closer. “I fancy we’re lonely for rather similar reasons.”
Miriam hesitated. “First of all I’m not sure what you mean. Second, if you mean what I dare say you do,—aren’t you rather bold?”
“Oh yes,” he replied. “Very likely.”
He returned to his glass, then added, “Your acknowledgment that I was bold satisfies me of the accuracy of my guess. As we were in the same boat I couldn’t resist the temptation of bidding for a crumb of commiseration. It would have been reciprocal. So my boldness wasn’t more rude than it was humane.”
“You’re excused,” said Miriam, “under the First Offenders Act.”
Girlie Windrom, in a commendable spirit, took an opportunity to express the hope that Madame Mornay-Mareuil, her vis-à-vis, had not found the long train journey too fatiguing.