Then he said:
"You have not forgotten that I expect you at Casa Felice towards the end
of August?"
Carey looked violently astonished.
"Still?" he said.
"Yes."
Suddenly Carey shot out his hand and grasped Sir Donald's.
"You aren't afraid to have a drunken beast like me in Casa Felice! It's a
damned dangerous experiment."
"I don't think so."
"It's your own lookout, you know. I absolve you from the invitation."
"I repeat it, then."
"I accept it, then--again."
Sir Donald went away thoughtfully. When he reached the Albany he found
Mrs. Leo Ulford waiting for him in tears. They had a long interview.
Many people fancied that Sir Donald looked more ghostly, more faded even
than usual as the season wore on. They said he was getting too old to go
about so much as he did, and that it was a pity Society "got such a hold"
on men who ought to have had enough of it long ago. One night he met Lady
Holme at the Opera. She was in her box and he in the stalls. After the
second act she called him to her with a gay little nod of invitation.
Lady Cardington had been with her during the act, but left the box when
the curtain fell to see some friends close by. When Sir Donald tapped at
the door Lady Holme was quite alone. He came in quietly--even his walk
was rather ghostly--and sat down beside her.
"You don't look well," she said after they had greeted each other.
"I am quite well," he answered, with evident constraint.
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