"Mr. Lorimer was called to Washington, last Thursday," she answered so
evenly that no one would have suspected the wondering annoyance which
his hasty note of explanation had caused her.

"Then he was here for your recital." Miss Gannion turned back to Thayer
once more. "Didn't someone tell me you were old friends, Mr. Thayer? It
must have been a very exhilarating night for him, this American debut of
yours."

For the space of a minute, out of her four hearers, three were holding
their breath. Under the promise of the strictest secrecy, Bobby had
confided to Sally the story of the scene in the smoking-room; and, like
two conspirators, they had spent a long evening in stealthy discussion
of the best way to keep the matter from the ears of Beatrix. Sally liked
Lorimer; Bobby detested him, yet to neither of them had the matter
seemed of quite sufficient importance to justify a broken engagement,
and they were too well acquainted with the strict code of Beatrix Dane
to doubt what would be the outcome of the affair, if the facts were to
reach her ears. Sally was less mature, less aware of the danger inherent
in the situation, less strong in her condemnation of what she termed
"friskiness." Bobby, with a shrug of his shoulders, admitted that a man
should not be condemned for a first offence, that there was plenty of
time to watch for a repetition of the affair, to warn Beatrix then and
to allow her to take her own course as seemed good to her. Meanwhile,
there was no use in disturbing her for nothing. It might be a single
slip, such as all men are liable to make. Of course, as Sally argued,
Lorimer had been under strong excitement, that evening, partly by reason
of his own newly-announced engagement, partly by reason of the brilliant
success of his friend. Lloyd Avalons was just the man to take advantage
of such a situation, and to think it a huge piece of humorous
hospitality to throw Lorimer off his guard. Lloyd Avalons had never
joined the camp of the prohibitionists, himself, and he saw no reason
for staying the appetites of his guests. To his mind, that Sidney
Lorimer could drink too much wine in his house presupposed a certain
intimacy. At least, if the incident were to be mentioned, their names
were bound to be bracketed with each other. Like his wife, Lloyd Avalons
possessed his social ambitions.

In the most accurate use of the words, Lorimer had not been drunk, only
intoxicated. When Thayer, with Bobby at his s