The gentlemen, who were all young and charming, clustered around Neisa.
But there was one who she thought seemed a little different from the others.
Neisa was not certain why until he shook her hand.
Then she had a feeling of revulsion which she could not explain – it was something she very seldom felt about anyone and when she did, she always learned later that her intuition had been right.
This person was in some way or another up to no good and unpleasant.
However, there was no question of talking to any particular gentleman.
They all appeared to be speaking at once and, not surprisingly, discussing horses.
“You know, of course,” one young man said to Neisa, “that after luncheon we are to have a parade of the horses that will be competing in the steeplechase tomorrow.”
“The Marq
