'That alters the case for me.

But it is not proved ?' 'It can easily be proved.' 'I wish it were, or disproved.' 'You have only to come this way to clear up all doubts.' Havill took the lad towards the tent, from which the strains of a waltz now proceeded, and on whose sides flitting shadows told of the progress of the dance.

The companions looked in.

The rosy silk lining of the marquee, and the numerous coronas of wax lights, formed a canopy to a radiant scene which, for two at least of those who composed it, was an intoxicating one.

Paula and Somerset were dancing together.
'That proves nothing,' said Dare.
'Look at their rapt faces, and say if it does not,' sneered Havill.
Dare objected to a judgment based on looks alone.
'Very well--time will show,' said the architect, dropping the tent-curtain....