"You're going to kiss me good-bye?" he pleaded.
"Perhaps. Just a little one."
When she had slipped from his embrace, her gaze was far away.
"What are you thinking of now?" he asked jealously.
"Of Connie."
"What of her?"
"I wonder where they are now. I was thinking," she continued as if speaking to herself, "that I'd like to see her to-morrow morning."
"Why to-morrow morning?" asked Thorpe. He was a youth of slow imagination, but he was not stupid. Suddenly he laughed. "Oh!" he cried. "So that's the idea! You little devil!"
"No; it isn't," denied Pat, her cheeks flaming, and ran back to the ballroom.
At the entrance she collided with Scott Vincent, who was looking for a vanished partner.