The situation was a tense one. Nothing but the woman's
innate tact could save it. Dorothea Overgold rose to it
with the dignity of a queen.

She turned to her husband.

"Take your soup over to the window," she said, "and eat
it there."

The millionaire took his soup to the window and sat
beneath a little palm tree, eating it.

"You didn't know," she repeated.

"No," said de Vere; "how could I?"

"And yet," she went on, "you loved me, although you didn't
know that I was married?"

"Yes," answered de Vere simply. "I loved you, in spite
of it."

"How splendid!" she said.

There was a moment's silence. Mr. Overgold had returned
to the table, the empty plate in his hand. His wife turned
to him again with the same unfailing tact.

"Take your asparagus to the billiard-room," she said,
"and eat it there."