"
She paused, burying her face in her hands, her body shaken with sobs.
Moffat, scarcely knowing whether to swear or smile, hastily signalled
for the waiting musicians to begin. As they swung merrily into waltz
measure he stepped forward, fully confident of his first claim for that
opening dance, and vaguely conscious that, once upon the floor with
her, he might thus regain his old leadership. Miss Spencer glanced up
at him through her tears.
"I--I really feel scarcely equal to the attempt," she murmured
nervously, yet rising to her feet. Then a new thought seemed suddenly
to occur to her. "Oh, Mr. Moffat, I have been so highly favored, and I
am so extremely anxious to do everything I can to show my gratitude. I
know it is requesting so much of you to ask your relinquishment of this
first dance with me to-night. As president of the Bachelors' Club it
is your right, of course, but don't you truly think I ought to give it
to Mr. McNeil? We were together all the way from the house, you know,
and we had such a delightful walk. You wouldn't truly mind yielding up
your claim for just this once, would you?"
Moffat did not reply, simply because he could not; he was struck dumb,
gasping for breath, the room whirling around before him, while he
stared at her with dazed, unseeing eyes.
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