"Hazel eyes!" he was thinking. "Where have I heard of another girl with hazel eyes? Oh, yes, it was the pretty stenographer who tried to spy on Silas Gyde. She had chestnut hair, too, and a mole inside her right forefinger. I don't suppose these tapering fingers ever jarred the keys." "What are you thinking of, Mr. Robinson?" Miss Culbreth asked in silvery tones. "I declare you are one of those dreadful men that bore you through and through with their eyes and never say a word." "I'd rather bore you with my eyes than with my conversation." "Mercy! Clever, too! I'm frightened to death of you!" "Didn't I tell you he was clever?" put in poor Bobo, without at all appreciating what was going on. "The worst of it is," said Miss Culbreth, "that the men who won't talk are those who really have something to say." This was accompanied by the shadow of a disdainful glance in Bobo's direction, and a warm flash towards Jack, the suggestion being: "One has to humor the stupid rich, but one enjoys oneself with the witty poor!" Jack was flattered through and through, but at the same time he was thinking: "She's a regular man-eater. I'll have to watch out for poor Bobo." "You don't approve of me," she said, casting down the lovely eyes. "Indeed I do," Jack protested. "What you mistake for disapproval is quite another feeling." "And what is that?" "Instinct of self-preservation!" "Are women so dangerous?" "Not all women." Her bold, pleased glance at Jack said: "We can have fun right under his stupid nose, can't we?" But Bobo was growing restless, and she turned to him promptly, as befitted a prudent, marriageable girl. "You were gone an awfully long time," she complained. Bobo grinned like the Cheshire cat. "Did you miss me?" She answered him with a long glance that visibly made his head reel. This was followed by a flash of intelligence in Jack's direction, signifying: "This is the sort of thing I'm obliged to hand out to them." "Lord! But she's a conscienceless lovely devil!" thought Jack grimly. "I'd like to teach her a lesson. Anyhow, I'm hanged if I'm going to let her make me a party to her game with Bobo." So he made a careless excuse and left them. Bobo did not mind, of course, but an ugly shadow flitted over Miss Culbreth's fair countenance. Jack returned to the lower floor, where he could smoke and watch the crowd undisturbed. He had not been there long before Bobo came downstairs considerably agitated. "Have you seen her?" he asked. "Who?" "Miriam--Miss Culbreth," he said, blushing. "We started downstairs to the refreshment room together, but I lost her somehow in the crowd. Can't find her anywhere." "She will find herself when she wishes to, I expect," said Jack calmly. "Maybe she's gone on in," said Bobo hopefully. He disappeared into the refreshment room. As soon as he had gone a footman who had been standing near approached Jack. "Mr. Robinson?" he asked. Jack nodded.