Then the oldsters began to depart, with laughter and gay good
nights. It had been a delightful affair, one of those affairs that
go with a swing and a rhythm all their own, and that one remembers
with a pleasant taste in the mouth.
Only the more indefatigable youngsters remained. They hadn't the
slightest intention of foregoing half a night's dancing. They danced
in the hall to the music of the victrola, while the regular
musicians were being feted in the kitchen by Mary Magdalen,
Queenasheeba, and Fernolia.
I missed my fan, and went into the drawing-room to look for it. The
room was quite empty for the moment, and looked lonesome for all its
blazing lights. A cool, sweet night wind came in through the open
windows, refreshingly. And quite suddenly there was framed in one of
them a figure more exotic, more bizarre, than any of our maskers had
been.
His dark robe was folded over his breast, and the silver shaft of a
knife showed in his red girdle. His white wool stuck out from under
his red fez, and his ear-rings gleamed against his black cheeks, and
the bracelets on his wiry arms made a faint tinkling as he leaned
forward.
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