really want to see me, why shouldn't we take a walk in the
Park some afternoon? I agree with you that it's amusing to be rustic in
town, and if you like I'll meet you there, and we'll go and feed the
squirrels, and you shall take me out on the lake in the steam-gondola."

She smiled as she spoke, letting her eyes rest on his in a way that took
the edge from her banter and made him suddenly malleable to her will.

"All right, then: that's a go. Will you come tomorrow? Tomorrow at three
o'clock, at the end of the Mall. I'll be there sharp, remember; you won't
go back on me, Lily?"

But to Miss Bart's relief the repetition of her promise was cut short by
the opening of the box door to admit George Dorset.

Trenor sulkily yielded his place, and Lily turned a brilliant smile on
the newcomer. She had not talked with Dorset since their visit at
Bellomont, but something in his look and manner told her that he recalled
the friendly footing on which they had last met. He was not a man to whom
the expression of admiration came easily: his long sallow face and
distrustful eyes seemed always barricaded against the expansive emotions.
But, where her own influence was concerned, Lily's intuitions sent out
thread-like feelers, and as she made room for him on the narrow sofa she
was sure he found a dumb pleasure in being near her. Few women took the
trouble to make themselves agreeable to Dorset, and Lily had been kind to
him at Bellomont, and was now smiling on him with a divine renewal of
kindness.

"Well, here we are, in for another six months of caterwauling," he began
complainingly. "Not a shade of difference between this year and last,
except that the women have got new clothes and the singers haven't got
new voices. My wife's musical, you know--puts me through a course of this
every winter. It isn't so bad on Italian nights--then she comes late, and
there's time to digest. But when they give Wagner we have to rush
dinner, and I pay up for it. And the draughts are damnable--asphyxia in
front and pleurisy in the back. There's Trenor leaving the box without
drawing the curtain! With a hide like that draughts don't make any
difference. Did you ever watch Trenor eat? If you did, you'd wonder why
he's alive; I suppose he's leather inside too.--But I came to say that my
wife wants you to come down to our place next Sunday. Do for heaven's
sake say yes. She's got a lot of bores coming--intellectual ones, I mean;
that's her new line,