You are going that way. Lord Lane has told me.
Will you come?"
"Is he coming?"
"Lord Lane, tell him that you are."
"You are very good, Contessa----"
"There! You hear, it is settled."
"If--Lord Lane makes you a visit, I will also, as you are kind enough
to want me."
Afterwards, when we had bidden the Contessa and her guardian dragons
good-night, and it was arranged that we were to stay over to-morrow,
on account of the lost bag, I said to the Boy on the way upstairs,
"You've made a conquest of the Contessa."
He blushed furiously, looked angry, and then burst out laughing. "Are
you jealous?" he asked.
"I ought to be."
"But are you?"
"I haven't had time to analyse my emotions. Why did you never tell me
you sang?"
"I wasn't ready--till to-night. Now--I sang for you."
"I thought it was for the Contessa."
"Did you? Well"--with sudden crossness--"you may go on thinking so, if
you like. Can she sing?"
"Rather well."
"As--better than I can?"
"You must judge for yourself when you hear her."
"You might tell me. But no! I don't want you to, now. It's spoiled.
Good-night."
"Good-night. Dream of your conquest."
"Probably she's only trying to--to bring you to the point, by being
nice to me. I wonder if you care?"
I would not give the little wretch any satisfaction. I merely
laughed, and an odd blue light flashed in his eyes.
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