“I will keep it for you in trust, Marie Lou,” he said, smiling. “I shall treasure it always because it comes from you, but if you ever need it, it is yours.” She squeezed his hand gratefully, and his pulse raced at the pressure of her tiny hand in his. The others each picked a jewel in turn, with the same reservation.
“Say,” Rex grunted, “this packet’s going in the hotel safe tonight; we’ve had all the trouble we’re needing for a while.”
A waiter stood beside De Richleau. “The gentleman you were inquiring for has just gone into the grill, sir.”
“Thank you.” The Duke carefully placed the beautiful ruby he had chosen in his waistcoat pocket. “Be good enough to inform me when he goes up to his room.”
Rex took Marie Lou’s hand “Come on,” he said, “let’s hit the floor again.”
He was teaching her the gentle art of modern dancing. Like most Americans, he had such a perfect sense of rhythm that it was impossible not to follow him. Richard sat watching and wished that he could dance as well. Marie Lou seemed to be picking it up easily and quickly, but he knew that it was too soon for him to attempt to dance with her yet, and he was too wise to try — let her learn with Rex. When they returned to the table Gerry Bruce took up his glass. “Well, fellers,” he declared, “as I’m the one and only guest, it’s up to me to give a bit of a toast”
“Hear, hear!” Simon filled up the glasses with champagne.
Gerry lifted his glass. “May Russia freeze the Bolshies, and may you all live to give your old friend Gerry Bruce many another good dinner in the years to come. How’s that?”
They drank it with enthusiasm. A little later Marie Lou turned to Richard. “Would you mind very much if I went to bed?”
“But it’s early,” he protested.