This when deciphered meant that Jack was not to be at the
dance that evening--he having determined instead to spend his time
up stairs with a disreputable old fellow whom he had picked up
somewhere at a supper the preceding night.
Corinne thought over the announcement for a moment, gazed into the
egg-shell cup that Hortense was filling from the tiny silver
coffee-pot, and a troubled expression crossed her face. "What has
come over Jack?" she asked herself. "I never knew him to do
anything like this before. Is he angry, I wonder, because I danced
with Garry the other night? It WAS his dance, but I didn't think
he would care. He has always done everything to please me--until
now." Perhaps the boy was about to slip the slight collar he had
worn in her service--one buckled on by him willingly because--
though she had not known it--he was a guest in the house.
Heretofore she said to herself Jack had been her willing slave, a
feather in her cap--going everywhere with her; half the girls were
convinced he was in love with her--a theory which she had
encouraged.
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