It was Dillwyn, the young doctor who had lately come into the neighbourhood, and who was beginning to do pretty well with a certain class of patients. Not the better classes; those belonged almost exclusively to Darkham.

Dillwyn was still a long way off, hemmed in by a crowd of skirts that now, being a little stiffened at the tail, took up a considerable amount of room and were not easily passed. There was still a moment or two before he could reach Agatha. Darkham caught his opportunity and turned hurriedly to her.

"I hope you will give me a dance later on?" he said, with a dogged sort of determination. He saw that she did not wish to dance with him, but the knowledge only served to strengthen his desire to dance with her; yet he did not ask her for the next dance. An almost mad longing to waltz with her, to hold her in his arms for even a few minutes, to fee. . . Read More