"Are you going to the dinner-party on board the _Sphinx_?" she asked,
grasping hurriedly at the first topic that presented itself.
A quick ejaculation escaped him.
"I'd clean forgotten all about it," he replied. "No, I didn't intend going.
I must send along a refusal, I suppose."
"Why?"
"Why?" He looked at her rather blankly. The monosyllabic question, uttered
so naturally, seemed to take him aback. "Why? Oh"--with a shrug--"these
social gatherings don't appeal to me. I prefer my own company."
"It's very bad for you," observed Ann.
"What is? My own company?"
"Yes"--simply.
He was silent a moment. Then he asked abruptly:
"Will you be there--on the yacht, I mean?"
She bent her head, conscious of the sudden flush that came and went quickly
in her face.
"Yes. Robin and I are going."
"In that case"--there was an infinitesimal pause and, although she would
not look up, she was sensitively aware of the intentness of his gaze--"in
that case, I shall change my mind and go, too."
"You'll meet plenty of friends there," replied Ann. "Lady Susan, of course,
and the Tempests, and Mrs. Hilyard."
"Acquaintances only," he returned shortly.
"Well, at least you'll admit that Mrs.
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