11. A BALCONY IN STRESA
The rest of the party awaited them in the living-room: Leslie Beaton, a charming picture in a blue gown by the fire, her silent brother, Romano, looking undeniably cheerful, and Ryder, grim and dour as always.
“Are we all here?” Ward asked. “I don’t see Doctor Swan.”
Evidently Sing had not kept his promise to pass on Swan’s farewell. Chan explained the matter.
“Indeed,” Ward answered. “Miss Beaton—may I have the honor? I trust I am not to lose any more of my guests—”
As they moved into the dining-room, the girl said something about leaving on the morrow, and Ward murmured his regrets. When they were an seated, their host remarked: “Some one was singing down here this evening. Rather well, too.”
“I hope I didn’t disturb you,” Hugh Beaton said.
“Disturb me? I e
