"I am sorry, Dehra," I said.
"Of course you are, sir, very sorry--that I saw you.--And so was I,"
she added.
"Was?" I echoed.
"It gave me _un mauvais quart d'heure_."
"No longer than that?" tasked.
"No; it lasted only until I had you to myself on the terrace, a little
later."
"And then?" I queried.
"Then? Then I was no longer jealous of the Lady Helen. Your eyes told
me there was no need."
"There never has been anyone but you, my darling," I whispered.
"And never will be, Armand?" she asked.
"Please God, never," I said; and, forgetting where we were, I made as
though to take her hand.
"Not now," she smiled. "Wait until after the Opera."
"It will be a longer wait than that," I said regretfully. "I have told
Courtney I would invite the Radnors and him to take supper with me on
the Hanging Garden, to-night."
"Why don't you say 'take supper with _us_'?"
"You mean it, Dehra?" I asked in surprise. "You have always refused,
hitherto; and I have asked so often."
She smiled. "Hitherto was different from now," she said.
"Thank God for the now," I added.
"We might bid them here for the last act," she suggested.
"I have presumed to hint as much to Courtney," I said; and told her how
it had all come about in my talk with him that morning.
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