“Pom-pom, pompity-pom! We might go one night, perhaps, together.”
“...”
“Doudja Degdeg is always a draw, although naturally now she is getting on!”
“And I fear so must I”—the duchess rose remarking.
“So soon?”
“I’m only so sorry I can’t stay longer——!”
“Then it’s all decided,” Madame Wetme murmured archly as she pressed the bell.
“Oh I’d not say that.”
“If I’m not asked, remember this time, I shall die with grief.”
“To-night the duke and I are dining with the Leucippes, and possibly ...” the duchess broke off to listen to the orchestra in the café below, which was playing the waltz-air from Der Rosenkavalier.