Annesley lifted her champagne glass as an excuse to raise her eyes. "I'm
afraid they've seen us and are talking about you. Can't we--hadn't we
better go?"

"Certainly not," replied Mr. Smith. "At least, _I_ can't. But if you
repent----"

"I don't," Annesley broke in. "I was thinking of you, of course."

"Bless you!" said her host. His tone was suddenly gay. She glanced at him
and saw that his face was gay also, his eyes bright and challenging, his
look almost boyish. She had taken him for thirty-three or four; now she
would have guessed him younger.

Annesley could not help admiring his pluck, for he had said that the
arrival of these men meant danger. She ought to be sorry as well as
frightened because they had come, but at that moment she was neither. Her
companion's example was contagious. Her spirits rose. And the thought
flashed through her head, "This adventure won't end here!" If she had had
time she would have been ashamed of her gladness; but there was no time.
Smith was talking again in a suppressed yet cheerful tone.

"You won't forget that we're Mr. and Mrs. Nelson Smith?"

"No--no. I sha'n't forget."

"You may have to call me Nelson, and I--to call you Annesley. It's a
pretty name, odd for a woman to have. How did you get it?"