To-night,” young Davenant declared, with something which was suspiciously like a yawn, “I really think that we must chuck it just a little earlier. Shall we say that we leave here at two, and get back to the hotel?”
Mademoiselle Rosine pouted, but said nothing. The young lady from America tried to take Macheson’s hand.
“Yes!” she murmured. “Do let’s! I’m dead tired.”
She whispered something in Macheson’s ear which he affected not to hear. He leaned back in his cushioned seat and laughed.
“What, go home without seeing Fran ois!” he exclaimed. “He’s keeping the corner table for us, and we’re all going to dance the Maxixe with the little Russian girl.”
“We could telephone,” Davenant suggested. “Do you know that we haven’t been to bed before six one morning since we arrived in Paris?”
“W
