"Just a very little?" She, too, rose and placed her butterfly hands on his shoulders. "You do like me—just a little, don't you?"
Her pleading eyes gazed into his. It was a touching scene. To be besought thus tenderly by a famous beauty in the secluded parlor of a southern hotel! The touch of her hands on his shoulders thrilled him. The odor of Jockey Club—
It was at this instant that Mr. Minot, looking past the Gaiety lady's beautiful golden coiffure, beheld Miss Cynthia Meyrick standing in the doorway of that parlor, a smile on her face. She disappeared on the instant, but Gabrielle Rose's "big scene" was ruined beyond repair.
"My dear lady"—gently Minot slipped from beneath her lovely hands—"I assure you I do like you—more than a little. But unfortunately my loyalty to Harrowby—no, I won't say that—circumstances are such that I can not be your friend in this instance. Though, if I could serve you in any other way—"
Gabrielle Rose snapped her fingers.
