And Gyp sat looking up at the apparition of her husband. She could just
see his eyes straining after that flying nymph. Miss Daphne's faun! Why,
even his ears were pointed! Had she never noticed before, how like a
faun he was? Yes--on her wedding-night! And she said quietly:
"Daphne Wing was rehearsing her new dance. So you're back! Why didn't
you let me know? Are you all right--you look splendid!"
Fiorsen bent down and clutched her by the shoulders.
"My Gyp! Kiss me!"
But even while his lips were pressed on hers, she felt rather than
saw his eyes straying to the garden, and thought, "He would like to be
kissing that girl!"
The moment he had gone to get his things from the cab, she slipped out
to the music-room.
Miss Daphne was dressed, and stuffing her garments into the green linen
bag. She looked up, and said piteously:
"Oh! Does he mind? It's awful, isn't it?"
Gyp strangled her desire to laugh.
"It's for you to mind."
"Oh, I don't, if you don't! How did you like the dance?"
"Lovely! When you're ready--come along!"
"Oh, I think I'd rather go home, please! It must seem so funny!"
"Would you like to go by this back way into the lane? You turn to the
right, into the road."
"Oh, yes; please. It would have been better if he could have seen the
dance properly, wouldn't it? What will he think?"
Gyp smiled, and opened the door into the lane.
Pages:
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155