Franzel was a gloomy young man with a
monocle, and he was waiting for a particular girl, who happened to be the
daughter of the Spanish Ambassador. And, this being his object, he had
chosen his position with care, near the door of the drawing-room, and
Armitage shared for the moment the advantage that lay in the Austrian's
point of view. Armitage had half expected that the Claibornes would be
present at a function as comprehensive of the higher official world as
this, and he intended asking Mrs. Sanderson if she knew them as soon as
opportunity offered. The Austrian attache proved tiresome, and Armitage
was about to drop him, when suddenly he caught sight of Shirley Claiborne
at the far end of the broad hall. Her head was turned partly toward him;
he saw her for an instant through the throng; then his eyes fell upon
Chauvenet at her side, talking with liveliest animation. He was not more
than her own height, and his profile presented the clean, sharp effect of
a cameo. The vivid outline of his dark face held Armitage's eyes; then as
Shirley passed on through an opening in the crowd her escort turned,
holding the way open for her, and Armitage met the man's gaze.
Pages:
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118