He spread out his hands and looked down at them; a nervous gesture and look she remembered with a pang.
‘Yes, we must go,’ she said softly.
At supper he sat opposite to her, and twinkled at her incessantly, as if encouraging her to continue to share with him a secret joke. But, confused amongst them all, she had lost her sense of vast amusement and assurance; she was unhappy because he was a stranger laughing at her and she could not laugh back.
Beside him was the face of Martin, staring solemnly, with absorption, watching her mouth when she spoke, her eyes when she glanced at him.
Thank God the meal was soon over.
A gay clipped exhilarating dance tune sounded from the drawing-room. Roddy had turned on the gramophone. He came and took Mariella without a word and they glided off together. Judith stayed with Julian and Martin in the verandah, looking in at them. She was frightened; she could not dance, so she would be no use to Roddy.
‘Do you dance, Julian?’
‘No. At least only with two people.’
Alas,—wounding reminder of his elegant unknown world where she had no place!... She blushed in the dusk.
‘Julian’s very lordly about his dancing;’ said Martin. ‘I expect he’s rotten really.’