he could.
I merely said, "The next is our dance," risking a rebuff; but it did not
come.

"Yes," she said, almost timidly. It was the first time I had heard her
speak, and her voice went to my heart.

The Duke stared, as though he would have stripped off my mask by sheer
force of curiosity. But he had to let the girl go; and as the music began
she was in my arms. I hardly dared believe my own luck. Neither of us
spoke. I was lost in the sense of her nearness, the knowledge that it was
the music which gave me the right to hold her thus, and that when the
music died I must let her go.

But a quick thought came. If we danced the waltz through, Carmona or
someone else would claim her for the next. If I could hide the girl before
it was over, perhaps I might keep her for a little time. Indeed, I must
keep her, if this meeting were not to end in failure; for there were
things I had to say.

The conservatory was too obvious; and the shallow staircase with its
rose-garlanded balusters, and its fat silk cushion for each step, would
soon be invaded by a dozen couples. What to do, then? I would have given
much to know the house.

"I must speak with you," I said at last. "Where can we go?"

She did not say in return, "Do you know me, then?" or any other
conventional thing. The hope in me that she had remembered well enough to
guess who I was, brightened. She would not have answered a person she
regarded as a stranger, as she answered me,

"There's a card-room at the end of the corridor to the left, off the big
hall, where we might rest for a moment or two," she said. "But I mustn't
stop long."

"No," I promised. "I won't try to keep you. I ask only a few moments. I
can't tell how I thank you for giving me those."

I threw a glance round for Carmona, and saw him dancing with a stately
Mary Stuart. I guessed his partner to be Lady Vale-Avon; and if I were
right, it was a bad omen. She was not a woman to care for extraneous
dancing, therefore she favoured Carmona in particular.

Still, for the moment he was occupied; and when his back was turned I
whisked Lady Monica out of the ball-room, past the decorated staircase in
the square hall, and to the room at the end of the corridor. There I
pushed aside a portiere and followed her in.

She had been right; the room was unoccupied, though two or three bridge
tables were ready for players. In one corner was a small sofa. The girl
sat down, carefully leaving no place for me, ev