96 THE SILVER FOX 



Weighted by encores, the dismal pro- 

 gramme wore on, and it was eleven o'clock 

 before the French's Court party could escape 

 from the long incarceration in hot air, 

 winnowed by draughts that were heavy 

 with hair oil. Slaney leaned back in the 

 corner of the 'bus, and the darkness of the 

 heart that she had been striving with fell 

 upon her like a tangible thing. In spite 

 of hot-water tins and a vast fur rug the 

 cold breath of a foggy night made itself 

 felt. The faces of the four occupants of 

 the 'bus glimmered white as the glimmer 

 of the windows. Glasgow was sitting beside 

 Slaney, and some feeling blended of com- 

 punction and of desire to retain a captive, 

 made him try to involve her in the desultory 

 talk. She tasted a certain joyless grati- 

 fication in ignoring him. The road was 

 very dark as they drove through a wood, 

 and the glimmer of Slaney 's face was almost 

 lost when Glasgow, determined to remind her 

 of the kiss that had so lightly come and gone 

 between the firelight and the moonlight, slid 



