"But you need not reply; there is no sense in my question."
She stood up, indifferent, absent-eyed, half turning toward the window; and, raising her hand, she carelessly brought the rebel strand of hair under discipline.
"You said you were going to look up Gerald," she observed.
"I am; now. What are you going to do?"
"I? Oh, dress, I suppose. Nina ought to be back now, and she expects me to go out with her."
She nodded a smiling termination of their duet, and moved toward the door. Then, on impulse, she turned, a question on her lips—left unuttered through instinct. It had to do with the identity of the pretty woman who had so directly saluted him in the Park—a perfectly friendly, simple, and natural question. Yet it remained unuttered.
She turned again to the doorway; a maid stood there holding a note on a salver.
"For Captain Selwyn, please," murmured the maid.
Miss Erroll passed out.
Selwyn took the note and broke the seal: