Just then, Madeline Spencer arose and I breathed a sigh of relief--she
was going. The next instant I almost gasped. Instead of going, she
came swiftly toward us--passed the low bank of plants--and straight to
me.
I arose--all the men arose--and bowed stiffly. She hesitated and
seemed a bit embarrassed--then, suddenly, held out her hand to me.
"I am afraid, Armand," she said, "you are not glad to see me."
Armand! Armand! Lord, what nerve! A rush of sharp anger almost
choked me, yet I tried to look at her only in calm interrogation.
"I think, Mrs. Spencer," I said, just touching her hand, "almost every
man is glad to see a pretty woman."
She gave me a look of surprise; then, threw up her head, disdainfully.
"You called me 'Mrs. Spencer'?" she asked.
I looked at her in surprise. "I was not aware you had changed your
name," I answered.
She took a step backward. "You were not aware of what?" she exclaimed.
"That you were no longer Mrs. Spencer," I said--a trifle curtly, maybe.
I thought she was playing for a presentation to the Princess and I had
no intention of gratifying her, even if I had to be rude to her
deliberately.
She passed her hand across her brow and stared at me incredulously.
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