“Will you please sing again?” he implored.
He nodded. Donald’s gaze travelled from the flying white fingers to the lovely face of the singer. As their eyes met Janet’s face flushed slightly, and at the finish of the verse she changed quickly to a rollicking song of the sea. “All join in,” she called merrily over her shoulder.
After Janet’s other guests had departed Donald, Douglas and Janet sat for an hour chatting by the large fireplace.
“May I go with you as far as Squamish to-morrow?” asked Janet.
“And when the railroad is through I will visit you,” she added.
Douglas looked at her curiously. Janet abhorred roughing it. Riding around Stanley Park and an occasional game of tennis comprised the extent of her outdoor activities. Douglas glanced at the clock and came quickly to his feet. “I’d better hustle you home, Donald,” he said, “as we have to be up early.”
The tinted shade of the hall light lent a soft radiance to the dark beauty of Janet’s face and gave to her eyes a deep and languorous glow.
“I have enjoyed every moment. Thank you so much,” Donald said earnestly.
“I’m glad,” she answered in a quiet voice.
He took her hand and held it in a strong pressure. “I’ll see you in the morning?”
The door closed gently and Janet heard him run down the steps to the whirring motor. She stood immovable until the sound of the car died in the distance, then walked meditatively to the fireplace, sank to a big chair and stared dreamily into the dying embers. Idly she reached for the evening paper and spread it on her knees.
“Such dignity and poise! He is wonderful!” she whispered aloud. “I must ask Douglas more about him.”
She lowered her eyes to the paper, then came slowly to her feet, a look of blank amazement on her face. Smiling up at her was the face of the man of whom she had been dreaming.
“New Canadian champion, whose spectacular defeat of Garrieau stamps him as a master of fistiana and places him in line to meet the world’s top-notchers.”
A pugilist! And she had proudly introduced him to her friends! Why hadn’t Douglas told her? She threw herself into a chair and gave herself over to a period of gloomy contemplation.
Whistling softly, Douglas shut off the hall lights and entered the room. “Not in bed yet? You’d better——” he broke off suddenly as she turned cold eyes upon him.