Never heard of her?" Saltash
handed her lightly down. "She is coming to a dance in the great _salon_
tonight. You shall see her. She is--a thing to remember."
Toby gave a quick shiver. "Yes, I have heard of her too much--too much--I
don't want to see her. Shall we dine upstairs?"
"Oh, I think not," said Saltash with decision. "You are too retiring, _ma
chere_. It doesn't become--a lady of your position."
He followed her towards the lift. The vestibule was full of people,
laughing and talking, awaiting the coming of the favourite. But as the
girl in her blue cloak went through, a sudden hush fell. Women lifted
glasses to look at her, and men turned to watch.
Saltash sauntered behind her in his regal way, looking neither to right
nor left, yet fully aware of all he passed. No one accosted him. There
were times when even those who knew him well would have hesitated to do
so. He could surround himself with an atmosphere so suavely impersonal as
to be quite impenetrable to all.
It surrounded him now. He walked like a king through a crowd of
courtiers, and the buzz of talk did not spring up again till he was out
of sight.
"So you do not want to see _le premiere danseuse du siecle!_" he
commented, as he entered the sitting-room of their suite behind Toby.
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