The younger set was arriving; he recognised several youthful people,
friends of Eileen Erroll; and taking his bearings among these bright,
fresh faces--amid this animated throng, constantly increased by the
arrival of others, he started to find his hostess, now lost to sight in
the breezy circle of silk and lace setting in from the stairs.
He heard names announced which meant nothing to him, which stirred no
memory; names which sounded vaguely familiar; names which caused him to
turn quickly--but seldom were the faces as familiar as the names.
He said to a girl, behind whose chair he was standing: "All the younger
brothers and sisters are coming here to confound me; I hear a Miss Innis
announced, but it turns out to be her younger sister--"
"By the way, do you know my name?" she asked.
"No," he said frankly, "do you know mine?"
"Of course, I do; I listened breathlessly when somebody presented you
wholesale at your sister's the other day. I'm Rosamund Fane. You might
as well be instructed because you're to take me in at the Orchils' next
Thursday night, I believe.
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