"You can't."
He rose, walked to the window, drew the curtain, and looked out at the November stars. Limpid, inexorable, the countless eyes of the night met his. Whatever message they held for him he seemed to understand it, for, presently he came quietly back to her.
"Yes," he said, "it's a good game, after all. The main thing is to get into it and stay there—in medeas res—squarely." He looked up, smiling. "Your superb interference put me there. Why do you deny it?"
"Does it please you that I should not deny it?"
"Yes, Diana."
"Then I affirm and deny nothing—which makes me sufficient of a nonentity to suit you, I hope."
"I am suited."
A moment later the bell rang, and Silvette and Jack, followed by Mr. Rivett, came laughing through the hall and into the little parlor.
"Jim! At last!" cried Silvette, giving him both hands.
"How are you, cousin! How are you, Mr. Rivett! Hello, Jack!" he said as they surrounded him with lively greetings.