“Oh! yes, I have a feeling that way.” Gilbert gave a little laugh to cover his confession. For Image’s enthusiasm was infective. And really Claudia was very charming. What a good hostess she would make. And she was quick to see things; her fine eyes had a wonderful way of lighting up—one of the gifts of the gods; she was interested in his career——
Image rose and clapped him on the shoulder.
“Why don’t you put on your dancing-pumps and go off and dance with her to-night? I daresay she’ll cut out some unfortunate fellow for you.”
Gilbert considered. “I must go down to my chambers early to-morrow, and I wanted to read over a brief to-night. Still, I might go for an hour. After all——” He broke off and put his pipe on the mantelpiece. After all, he had been celebrating a victory and his birthday. He had the feeling that he might allow himself a little treat. Claudia would be surprised and, he thought, pleased to see him. It was always easy to see her emotion mirrored in her eyes.... Yes, he would treat himself.
Image said good-night and went down in the lift. He was thinking of Gilbert, a little puzzled, a little regretful, of what he hardly knew—and he flashed back a glance to his own youth.
He stood still for a moment in the warm spring air and looked up at the stars. Then he took off his hat and for a moment stood bareheaded, as before a shrine.
“I’m very glad,” he said softly; but why he was glad no one but himself knew, unless it were the stars.