"Did you know from the first?" she cried.
"No," said Rackham, "I didn't know. But I guessed."
They had nearly reached the steps, and he slackened, regarding her narrowly; but already she was subdued. It was characteristic of her that she had never seen his admiration for the impostor. Vast as her imagination was, it was blinded by centring on herself.
"And you'll help me? You are on my side?" she said.
He knew then that he had prevailed.
"As long as you are wise," he said. They went up the steps together.
"I had better find my party," she said hurriedly. "I want to go home. Poor Barnaby!—I can't bear to meet him. I am too agitated."
Rackham took back the borrowed cloak and strolled along the passage, in no hurry to return to the ballroom. People were passing in and out; some of them were saying good-night, and one pair were wrangling on their way to the door.
"Who was the man you were flirting with in the street?" said the lover in an angry stutter. The lady scoffed.
"What a story!"