“Something must have gone to Casabianca’s head,” Frederick Towne remarked to Jane. “Have you ever seen him like this?”
“Years ago. He was tremendously attractive.”
“Do you find him attractive now?” with a touch of annoyance.
“I find him—wonderful”—her tone was defiant—“and I’ve known him all my life.”
“If you had known me all your life would you call me wonderful?”
She looked at him from behind her battlements of silver. “How do I know? People have to prove themselves.”
Dr. Hallam had driven Mrs. Follette over. He rarely did social stunts, but he liked Jane. And he had been interested enough in Evans to want to glimpse him in his new rôle.
Strolling up to the tea-table, he was aware at once of a situation which might make for comedy, or indeed for tragedy. It was evident that Towne was much attracted to little Jane Barnes. If Jane reciprocated, what of young Follette?
Hallam knew Towne, and himself a bachelor of quite another type, without vanity where women were concerned, he had a feeling of contempt for a man whose reputation was linked with a long line of much-talked about ladies. And now little Jane was the reigning queen. He didn’t like the idea of her youth, and Towne’s late forties.
“I saw Mrs. Laramore yesterday,” he said, abruptly, “lovely as ever——”