"Pardon!" he said, cleverly saving her from a recoil against the door! "Oh; it's the infanta!" He looked into her vivid face with appreciative amusement. "Don't you want to give me this dance?" he asked.
Her hot cheeks cooled. She considered him appraisingly though her heart beat quicker. He was so very good to look at!
"No; I don't," she replied.
"No?" he laughed. "You're frank, at least. Perhaps you'll be franker and tell me why."
"Because you didn't ask me earlier."
"Indeed! But I hadn't seen you," he protested, surprised at himself at being put upon the defensive by this child.
"I don't like not being seen," retorted Pat, with a calmness worthy of an experienced flirt.
"Well, I'm damned!" said Vincent softly, under his breath. He began to be interested in this quaint specimen. "Oh! come! Give me a chance to make amends. How about a little supper?"
"No," answered Pat with perverse satisfaction. "I'm going to bed. Good-night, Mr. Too-late."
She darted away from him, triumphantly satisfied of having left a barb behind her. He wouldn't forget her soon, she'd bet! At the turn of the stairs she peeped down expectantly. Sure enough! there he stood staring after her, his comely face clouded with perplexity and disappointment. It gave Pat a sudden heating of the blood; but this was the thrill of satisfaction, of something achieved, quite different from the unsated yet delicious longing experienced when she had looked down before from that same vantage point upon Warren Graves.