matters, doesn't it? Still--" He looked again at the cards. "It seems
pretty certain. If it weren't for that hobgoblin of a Knave I should say
it was quite so. He comes between the King and the heart, you see. I
shouldn't be too intimate with him if I were you."

She rose, still smiling. "I shall certainly keep him at a respectful
distance," she said. "Good-bye."

"Oh, are you going? Let me escort you! Really, I've nothing else to do."
He swept the cards together and sprang to his feet. "Where may I take
you? Would you like some refreshment?"

She accepted his proffered arm though she instantly negatived his
proposal. "Shall we go down to the vestibule? No doubt you have a partner
for the next dance."

"Have you?" he questioned keenly.

"That is beside the point," she remarked.

"Not at all. It is the centre and crux of the situation. Do say you are
disengaged for the next!" His manner became almost boyishly eager. He
had shed his drawl like a garment. "Say it!" he insisted.

She stood in the doorway as one halting between two opinions. "But if I
am not disengaged?" she said.

He laughed. "There is a remedy for that, I fancy. And the Queen can do
no wrong. Don't be a slave to the great god Convention! He's such a
hideous bore."