She was still playing the quaint, sweet dance called "The Orchid," and Hargrave was leaning on the piano beside her watching Cecil and Athalie drifting through the dusk to the music's rhythm, when the door opened and somebody came in.
Athalie, in Cecil's arms, turned her head, looking back over her shoulder. Dane loomed tall in the twilight.
"Oh!" she exclaimed; "I am so glad!"—slipping out of Cecil's arms and wheeling on Dane, both hands outstretched.
The others came up, also, with quick, gay greetings, and after a moment or two of general and animated chatter Athalie drew Dane into a corner and made room for him beside her on the sofa. Peggy had turned on the music machine again and, snubbing Hargrave, was already beginning the Miraflores with Cecil Reeve.
Athalie said: "Are you well? That's the first question."
He said he was well.
"And did you find your lost city?"
He said, quietly: "We found Yhdunez."
"We?"
"I and my white companion."