As she swept out of the arched doorway, the boy looked after her in chagrined anger.
Heart knocking against her side, she emerged into the high narrow hall. Thompson was at the door, and as she had surmised, the tall stranger with whom he was discreetly parleying was Alexis.
Muffled in a great coat, a soft hat pulled over his eyes, he presented the appearance of a conspirator in the movies, and Anne did not wonder that Thompson had hesitated to permit him to enter. Suppressing a hysterical desire to laugh, she interposed herself between the two men.
“It’s quite all right, Thompson,” she said in a low voice, “you may go.”
As the surprised man disappeared down the corridor, she held out her hands to Alexis. He seized and covered them with kisses.
“Be careful.” A pulse hammering faintly in her throat, she drew him swiftly into the house. “The house is full of people and someone may come out here at any moment!”
He cast a hunted look about him. A sudden shriek of laughter rose shrilly above the rest.
“Isn’t there any place where we can be undisturbed?” His lowering gaze rested upon her angrily. But it was the first time he had seen her in evening dress and as her beauty penetrated through his irritation, his expression melted suddenly.
“You are like an alabaster lamp!” he exclaimed. “Your skin is luminous, as if a light were glowing from within. I think you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen!”
She gave a husky little laugh and catching hold of his hand, pulled him after her up the stairs.