He backs away from her.
"So, it is you again, wretched girl?" he exclaims, in something of righteous wrath.
She has lost once more, but this is frolic to one of her nature, and she laughs in his face.
"Oh, it's a long road that has no turning, and my chance will yet come! Bah! I snap my fingers at such weak friendship. Good-night, all of you, but not good-by."
Thus she disappears.
Craig feels abashed.
He has almost come to blows with his best friend about this female, and, after all, she turns out to be the plotting Pauline.
"I think I need a guardian," he murmurs, as if rather disgusted with himself.
"From the ugly looks some of these chaps are bending on you, I think ditto," declares Philander, nor are his words without meaning, for the natives scowl dreadfully.
"Lady Ruth, I owe you thanks; but, while we walk to the hotel, tell me how you came to know she was masquerading in that style."