through the crowd. Carmelita stood looking after him uncertainly.
"Shall we finish our dance?" asked the Prince, intending to ignore the violence that had been done him and to dismiss Dudley without further comment. There were tears of humiliation in her eyes. Without any warning or answer to the Indian's question, she turned abruptly and hurried after her husband. There was a short cut to her own house, where she judged he had gone, through the lawns of two neighboring estates. Breathless and disheveled she dodged past the shrubbery, over hedges, the moonlight lighting her path. Her only thought at the outset was to find him and force him to take her in his arms and reason with him. But such is human perversity and our reluctance to admit there is ever a just cause for being publicly humiliated that by the time she had reached the house she was quite sure he had done her a grave wrong.
He was standing in the living-room of "their" house, hands clenched behind him, staring out through the gay little curtains into the dark. He turned as, catching for breath, she flung open the door.
She waited to recover her breath, leaning against the door. Then quite composed and with dignity she said, "I have come for an apology, Dudley." But she could not go on
