"Oh, of course, I forgot. It's so nice when people are good and pretty too, isn't it? After all, good looks do go for something, don't they?" and she fixed a pair of large and unnaturally innocent eyes on Dale.
"You must tell me about that," he said with labored politeness. "How do you find it?"
"Oh, nonsense, Mr. Bannister! But, seriously, did you ever see anything so lovely as the way Sir Harry looked at Tora when they were----"
Dale had gone--without a word of excuse. He had seen Janet rise abruptly, with an impatient wave of her hand, and Captain Ripley turn on his heel and disappear into the eddying throng that was circling round the wedding presents. He darted across to Janet, and held out his hand.
"I must see you here," he said, "since you will not see me at the Grange."
The bridesmaid marked their greeting. She rose with offended dignity and returned to her mother. She says to this day that she has only known one poet, and he was not at all nice, and concludes, after the manner of a certain part of humanity, that none of the rest are nice either.
Janet looked at Dale doubtfully, then she led the way to a little room which was free from the crowd. Then she sat down. "I'm very tired," she said, "and I want to stay here and rest. Will you let me?"
"I know what you mean, Jan. How can I, when I never have a chance of saying what I want to say to you? You talk to Ripley----"
"I'm glad to hear it," said Dale heartlessly.
"I'm not much troubled about him. I'm only a habit to him."
"I don't care twopence about him. Jan, when is this sort of thing to end? Don't you like seeing me?"
Janet had made up her mind to treat Dale at first with simple friendliness; if this recipe failed, it was to be followed by distant civility. She answered collectedly enough, in spite of a quiver in her voice:
"I thought I had better not see you just now."
"I can't go through it all again. Indeed I can't, Dale."
"Do you seriously expect me to be content with what you said then--to go away and never come near you again?"
Dale spoke vehemently. It was obvious that the distant civility would be called into play. Perhaps silence was Janet's idea of it, for she said nothing.
"Because that's what it comes to," pursued Dale. "Do you imagine, Jan, I could see you now--after it all--except as your lover? What do you want me to do?"