For an hour they talked until, in some subtle and indefinable manner,
Bobby felt that Madame de Corantin desired to be left alone. He had
frequently had this experience with her; she seemed to be able to
indicate a desire without expressing it, and he rose now from his seat
and wished her good-night. Ramsey did not move, and Bobby's heart sank
within him at the prospect of leaving his rival in possession, but, as he
took Madame de Corantin's hand, she held it an instant in hers, turning
at the same time towards Ramsey.

"I am so sorry," she said to him, "that our agreeable little party must
break up, but I have many letters to write this evening, and shall look
forward to seeing you both to-morrow."

Bobby was elated as he went out of the room, closely followed by Ramsey;
indeed, reaction prompted geniality.

"I think I'll go round to Maxim's for an hour; it's quite early. Will you
join me? There are sure to be people you know there."

They were standing in the hall of the hotel.

"Thanks, it's very good of you, but I too have letters to write," Ramsey
replied, and turning coldly on his heel he left Bobby to go out alone.

Bobby strolled down the Place de la Concorde, but before he reached
Maxim's his heart misgave him; he was reviewing the events of the evening
and, though he could not justify it, his mind was full of suspicion. It
was queer her wanting to see Ramsey again after the way he had behaved.
What could have been her object? Was he really so irresistible? She had
certainly shown quite plainly that she wanted to see him, and yet she had