something, the very lack of all
invitation in the black phantom, made him linger. He repeated his
request in French.

From behind the veil came a liquidly soft voice with a note of
mirth. "I understand the English, monsieur," it informed him.

"Enough, then, to say yes in it?"

The black phantom shook its head. "My education, alas! has only
proceeded to the N." Her speech was quaint, unhesitating, but oddly
inflected. "I regret--but I am not acquainted with the yes."

A gay character for a masked ball! Indifference and pique swung
Ryder towards a geisha girl, but a trace of irritation lingered and
he found her, "You likee plink gleisha?" singularly witless.

He'd tell McLean just how darned captivating his outfit was, he
promised himself.

And then he caught sight of a familiar pair of gray eyes smiling
over the white veil of an odalisque. Jinny Jeffries was wearing one
of the many costumes there that passed for Oriental, a glittering
assemblage of Turkish trousers and Circassian veils, silver shawls
and necklaces and wide bracelets banding bare arms.

As an effect it was distinctly successful.

"Ten thousand dinars could not pay for the chicken she has eaten,"
uttered Ryder appreciatively in the language of the old slave
market, and stepped promptly ahead of a stout Pantalon.

"Jack! You did come!" There was a note in the girl's voice as if she
had disbelieved in her good fortune. "Oh, and beautiful as Roderick
Dhu! Didn't I tell you that you could find something in that shop?"
she declared in triumph.

"Do you imagine that this came out of a costumer's?" Ryder swung her
swiftly out in the fox trot before the crowd invaded the floor. "If
Andy McLean could hear you! Why this, this is the real thing, the
Scots-wha-hae-wi'-Wallace-bled stuff."

"Who is Andy McLean?"

"Andrew is Scotch, Single, and Skeptical. He is a great pal of mine
and also an official of the Agricultural Bank which is by way of
being a Government institution. These are the togs of his Hieland
Grandsire--"

"Why didn't you bring him?"

"Too dead, unfortunately--grandsires often are--"

"I mean Andrew McLean."

"It would take you, my dear Jinny, to do that. You brought me--and
I can believe in anything after the surprise of finding myself
here."

Jinny Jeffries laughed. "If I could only believe what you say!"

"Oh, you can believe anything I say," Jack obligingly assured her.
"I'm very careful what I _say_--"

"I wish I were."