The blue gown was not interpretative. If she was
Miss Holland it would be very shabby of him to herald the surprise.
Naturally, St. George would appreciate doing that himself. "I'm
looking about a bit," he neatly temporized.
Antoinette suddenly looked away over the terrace as her eyes met
his, smiling behind their pince-nez. Amory was good to look at, and
he had never been more so than as he towered above her on the steps
of the king's palace. Who was he--but who was he? Antoinette
wondered rapidly. Had a warship arrived? Was Yaque taken? Or
had--she turned eyes, round with sudden fear, upon Amory.
"Did Prince Tabnit send you?" she demanded.
Amory laughed.
"No, indeed," he said. Amory had once lived in the South, and he
accented the "no" very takingly. "I came myself," he volunteered.
"I thought," explained Antoinette, "that maybe he opened a door in
the dark, and you walked out. It _is_ rather funny that you should
be here."
"You are here, you know," suggested Amory doubtfully.
"But I may be a cannibal princess," Antoinette demurely pointed out.
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