She did not catch his remark at first, as was natural in a person preoccupied. Then she bit her lips to repress a smile.
"I assure you, Mr. Farrar," she said with force, "I have never in my life wished to dance as little as I do now."
But a voice interrupted her, and the scarlet coat of the Celebrity was thrust into the light between us. Farrar excused himself abruptly and disappeared.
"Never wished to dance less!" cried the Celebrity. "Upon my word, Miss Thorn, that's too bad. I came up to ask you to reconsider your determination, as one of the girls from Asquith is leaving, and there is an extra man."
"You are very kind," said Miss Thorn, quietly, "but I prefer to remain here."
My surmise, then, was correct. She had evidently met the Celebrity, and there was that in his manner of addressing her, without any formal greeting, which seemed to point to a close acquaintance.
"You know Mr. Allen, then, Miss Thorn?" said I.
"What can you mean?" she exclaimed, wheeling on me; "this is not Mr.
Allen."
"Hang you, Crocker," the Celebrity put in impatiently; "Miss Thorn knows who I am as well as you do."
"I confess it is a little puzzling," said she; "perhaps it is because I am tired from travelling, and my brain refuses to work. But why in the name of all that is strange do you call him Mr. Allen?"