Part 18 (2/2)
The party was a third over when Trennahan approached Magdalena for the first time. She had taken her partner to his chaperon, Mrs. Geary, and was regarding a group of expectant youths. The spirit of the thing had possessed her and she was enjoying herself. Her shyness had worn off to some extent; she danced rather well, and had learned to make small talk.
Being happy, all things seemed easy of accomplishment. She became aware that Trennahan was standing beside her, but did not turn her eyes.
”Will you sit out a dance with me--or rather walk it out in the garden?
You must be a little tired, and it is delightful out there.”
”I'd rather--I think papa would not like it.”
”I am positive that he would not mind.”
”I am engaged.”
”Let me see your fan.”
She delivered it reluctantly.
”You have no one down for the next--nor the next.”
”I--I--think I'd rather not go.”
”Do you mean that? For if you do, I shall go home. I came for nothing else. I have not seen you alone for three days.”
”I am sorry.”
”Come.”
Her jumping fingers closed about her fan, and the sticks creaked; but she followed him.
As they descended the steps he drew her hand through his arm. The garden looked very wild and dark. The stars were burning overhead. Slanting into the heavy perfume of flowers were the pungent odours of a forest fire.
”You look like a pomegranate flower.”
”Do you like my frock?”
”You know that I do.”
”Should you like to smoke?”
”I should not.”
”It is a beautiful night.”
”Very.”
”I had a letter from Helena to-day.”
”Did you?”
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