“There are others! That’s what I was hinting!”
“How prettily rude you are! That’s the beauty of a masquerade—one can say anything.”
“Can one? Then listen! I know you! I know who you are!”
“Do you?” said Locke. “Well, I’m not so overwhelmed at that! I know who you are!”
“Ah, but I’m telling the truth—and you’re fibbing!”
And with a merry trill of laughter, Carmen disengaged herself from his clasping arm and ran away.
“Foolish chit!” Locke thought, and wandered about, looking for Pearl Jane.
The Dutch Girl was dancing with a Sailor Boy, and Locke stood to one side and watched them.
“Funny thing about Pearl Jane,” he thought; “she’s womanly—and all that—and yet she’s little more than a child. Lucky she has Kate beside her—Kate’s a trump. But Kate’s party here to-night is rubbish! I am bored already. However, the kiddy wanted her Bal Masque, and now she’s got it. I hope she’s enjoying herself. I wonder what she’ll grow up to. It will take a jolt of some sort to waken her. She’s a dear thing—but—well, she’s Pearl Jane!”
And then, he discovered he could claim her for a dance, and at once did so.
“How’s the party?” he inquired, as they swung off.
“Oh, it’s blissful! It’s double-distilled Paradise!”
“There, there, save your adjectives! Don’t be foolishly extravagant!”
“But don’t you think so? Don’t you just love it? All the lights and the people, and the jewels”
“Mock jewels.”
“What of it? Don’t be cynical to-night, Tommy—dear.”
