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d have fallen to the floor, her legs refusing further to support her body. She was trembling all over. Miss Wangle had selected the next table. Patricia was conscious of hoping that somewhere in the next world Miss Wangle's sufferings would transcend those of Dives as a hundred to one. As she was pulling off her gloves her companion held a low-toned colloquy with the waiter. She stole a glance at him. What must he be thinking? How had he classified her? Her heart was pounding against her ribs as if determined to burst through. Suddenly she remembered that the others were watching and, leaning upon the table, she said: "Please pretend to be very pleased to see me. We must talk a lot. You know--you know--" then she turned aside in confusion; but with an effort she said, "You--you are supposed to be my fiance, and you've just come back from France, and--and---- Oh! what are you thinking of me? Please--please----" she broke off. Very gravely and with smiling eyes he replied, "I quite understand. Please don't worry. Something has happened, and if I can do anything to help, you have only to tell me. My name is Bowen, and I'm just back from France." "Are you a major?" enquired Patricia, to whom stars and crowns meant nothing. "I'm afraid I'm a lieutenant-colonel," he replied, "on the Staff." "Oh! what a pity," said Patricia, "I said you were a major." "Couldn't you say I've been promoted?" Patricia clapped her hands. "Oh! how splendid! Of course! You see I said that you were Major Brown, I can easily tell them that they misunderstood and that it was Major Bowen. They are such awful cats, and if they found out I should have to leave. You see that's some of them at the next table there. That's Miss Wangle with the lorgnettes and the other woman is Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe, who is her echo, and the man is Mr. Bolton. He's nothing in particular." "I see," said Bowen. "And--and--of course you've got to pretend to be most awfully glad to see me. You see we haven't met for a long time and--and--we're engaged." "I quite understand," was the reply. Then suddenly Patricia caught his eye and saw the smile in it. "Oh, how dreadful!" she cried. "Of course you don't know anything about it. I'm talking like a schoolgirl. You see my name's Patricia, Patricia Brent," and then she plunged into the whole story, telling him frankly of her escapade. He was strangely easy to talk to. "And--and
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