The girl under whose feet the floor still eddied clung to Persis and stared at her a second, then gasped:
"Oh, Miss Cabot, is it you? I must have nearly killed you. Can you ever ever forgive me?"
Persis patted her hand and turned her round to Forbes: "You'd better ask Mr. Forbes. You gave him a lovely black eye."
The girl acknowledged the introduction with a duck and a prayer of wild appeal:
"Oh, Mr. Forbes, what a ghastly, ghastly shame! Did I really hurt you? I must have simply murdered you. I'm so ashamed. Can you ever ever forgive me?"
Forbes smiled at her melodramatic agitation: "It's nothing at all, Miss—Miss—I never liked this nose, anyway. I only wish you had hit it harder, Miss—"
"Miss Neff," Persis prompted. "You met her mother last night."
Forbes vaguely remembered that somebody had said something about a beautiful mother of a more beautiful daughter; but he could not frame it into a speech, before Persis startled the girl beyond reach of a pretty phrase, by casually asking:
"Were you expecting to meet your mother here this afternoon, Alice?"
"Good Lord, I should say not! Why?"