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change of expression, said no more, though he had begun his story with the intention of leading up to this. They parted with polite thanks from Mary for his information, thanks which seemed banal, a strange anti-climax coming after the story of the lovers. Yet they went away from one another with an aftermath of their first unreasoning happiness still lingering in their hearts. That night at dinner they bowed to each other slightly; and during the week that followed before Christmas eve, sometimes Vanno almost believed in the girl; sometimes he lost hope of her, and was plunged from his unreasoning happiness to the dark depths of a still more unreasoning despair. But he knew that she thought of him. He saw it in her eyes, or in the turn of her head if she ostentatiously looked away from him. And he did not know whether he were glad or sorry, for he saw no good that could come of what he began to call his infatuation. The morning of Christmas eve arrived, and with it a telegram to say that Angelo and his bride Marie were delayed again until the eve of New Year's Day, the great fete of France. Vanno was disappointed, for he had expected them that night, and would have liked to be with them on Christmas. He resolved to invite the cure to dine with him on Christmas night; and meanwhile, strolling on the Casino terrace in the hope of seeing Mary, he ran across Jean Rongier, the airman, the young French baron who had achieved a sensational success at Nice for the new Della Robbia parachute. On the strength of this feat the two had become good friends, and Vanno had been up several times in Rongier's Bleriot monoplane. "A favour, _mon ami_," Rongier began as they met. "I was on the point of calling at your hotel, to ask it of you. Go with me to-night to a dance on board the big yacht _White Lady_, that you can see down there in the harbour." "Many thanks, but no!" laughed Vanno. "I haven't danced since I was twenty; and even if I had I don't know _White Lady's_ owner." "That is nothing," said Rongier. "Nobody knows him, but every one is going--that is, all the men we know are going; and you will go, to please me." "I'd do a good deal to please you, but not that," Vanno persisted. "If I tell you a lady whom I am anxious--particularly anxious--to please, will be angry with me if you refuse? She makes it a point that I bring you." "That's a different matter," said Vanno good-naturedly. "I suppose she doesn't mak
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