‘Oh, but he acts a white bear, you know.’
‘Just so; that’s why he has chosen a brown bear’s skin as a disguise.’
‘Ho, ho! You’re a good one,’ cried harlequin.
‘Grrooonnn,’ observed Tom.
‘Well, now you mention it, I do recognise his voice. Really, I wonder it had not struck me before. Do ask him to disguise it better.’
‘Yes, yes,’ said Fan, moving towards the ball-room, ‘but it will never do to worry him. However, I’ll try to persuade him to dance a minuet presently.’
‘Oh, could you really?’
‘He promised to do so. Just give a hint to your friends and try to prevent their teasing him.’
‘All right.’
Tom made his way through the crowd, whilst the delighted harlequin moved from one mask to another, telling his news with warnings to be discreet, which were well received. Just then, too, the sounds of a lively galop were heard, and a general rush to the ball-room took place, harlequin only pausing to murmur in Tom’s ear: ‘I know you, my fine mask.’