"Well, that can't hurt me, can it?" said Pat, a little impatiently, as one suspicious of criticism.
No such notion was in the mind of Dee, who answered promptly: "No. Best thing in the world for you, I'd say. But do give Mark a run for his money this evening."
"Oh, very well! I don't have to marry the bird, do I?"
Dee laughed. "You might do worse. He's got lots of money and you could manage him like a lamb."
"I don't want a lamb. I don't want anything yet but to have a good time."
"Shoot along and have it, then."
Thus it was that Cary Scott was mulcted of several expected dances with no other explanation than a whispered "I'll tell you why later," which, however, left him not ill-content. Just before the bridal couple left he got his first private word with the busy maid-of-honour. They stood together on the tile of the loggia, now a bower of greenery and a narrow thoroughfare for the guests going outside to smoke. Pat's first words were:
"Oh, Cary; did you see Dee's face?"
"Yes." He did not need to ask her when.
"What did it mean?"