anned
skins like his own, and the mark of the collar rim of their high
military tunics round their throats. They were masked, and represented
various original characters, and were enjoying themselves hugely. More
than all were they astonished at being recognised so readily by
Rallywood. Rallywood drew his finger round his throat by way of
explanation. There was a general laugh, and the men scattered each to
seek his own particular pleasure. Rallywood remained looking down on the
dancers. There was in the back of his mind some desire to identify the
lady whose glove was still in his possession. He fixed now on one tall
domino, now on another, but without satisfaction. He was discontentedly
coming to the point of knowing that he had made a fresh mistake, when
he turned his head abruptly, with a vague sense of being looked at, and
saw a black domino standing for an instant alone at the further end of
the gallery. Even under the muffling silken folds he fancied he
recognised the attitude of the girl he had met at the Chancellor's.

He at once began to make his way through the crowd in her direction, but
when next he looked she was gone. He descended to the salon, where he
danced with more than one masked lady. His six feet of stature marked
him out from the shorter Maasauns, and the tall athletic figure of the
gamekeeper, who moved with so much of unexpected ease and grace, excited
some attention.

After an interval, as he stood back against the wall to allow a couple
who had been following him to pass, they drew up in front of him.

'I obey you, Mademoiselle,' said the man.

His companion, who wore a black domino, made a gesture of dismissal;
then she turned to Rallywood. 'You have been looking for me?' she said,
as her late partner moved away.

'But naturally, Mademoiselle,' replied Rallywood.

'You know who I am?'

'Not in the least. I cannot even make a guess, though I have been
waiting to know since this day last week.'

'It would have been easy to ask the question--of anyone,' she said with
an odd intonation.

'By no means. There are questions which cannot be asked--of anyone,
because the answer touches too closely.' Rallywood pulled himself up
with a sudden sense of being ridiculously in earnest.

And then they were dancing.

'Yet you are not a stranger in Revonde. Madame de Sagan could have
answered your question--had you cared to ask it,' the girl said.

'It did not strike me to ask her. I trusted to