“Ah!” she said, drawing a deep breath. “That is good. Do you know, I was almost overcome. The air of that room is quite deadly. Now I am all right. Let us get a breath from the outside, Hugh.”
Taking him by the arm, she hastened him to the farther end of the corridor and opened the door. “Oh, delicious!” She drew in deep breaths of the cold, fresh air.
“How wonderful the night is, Hugh.” She leaned far out, “and the snow was like a cloth of silver and diamonds in this glorious moon.” She stooped, and from a gleaming bank beside the door she caught up a double handful of the snow and, packing it into a little ball, flung it at her partner, catching him fairly on the ear.
“Aha!” she cried. “Don't ever say a woman is a poor shot. Now then,” she added, stamping her feet free from the clinging flakes and waving her hands in the air to dry them, “I feel fit for anything. Let us have one more dance before we go home, for I feel we really must go.”
“You are sure you are quite fit?” inquired Hugh, still anxious for her.
“Fit? Look at me!” Her cheeks were bright with colour, her eyes with light.
“You surely do look fit,” said Hugh, beaming at her with frank admiration. “But you were all in a few moments ago.”
“Come along. There is a way into the hall by this door,” she cried, catching his hand and hurrying him into the dancing room again.
At the conclusion of their dance they came upon Patricia near the main entrance, in great distress. “I have not seen Captain Jack anywhere,” she lamented. “Have you, Adrien? I have just sent Vic for a final search. I simply cannot go home till I have had my dance.” The girl was almost in tears.
“Never mind, dear,” said Adrien. “He has many duties to-night with all these players to look after. I think we had better go whenever Vic returns. I am awfully sorry for you, Patricia,” she added. “No! Don't! You simply must not cry here.” She put her arm around her sister's shoulder, her own lips trembling, and drew her close. “Where has Vic gone, I wonder?”