At the far end of the garden there was a long buffet laden with food, and already turbaned waiters were passing amongst the guests with trays containing tumblers of whisky and glasses of champagne.
“I think,” Bing said, “there is no need for us to be welcomed by our host. We’ll skip the preliminaries and join those below us.”
“How did you guess that we could do this?” Melina asked him.
“I thought when we looked this morning that there were very few preparations for a dance in this part of the garden,” he answered. “Therefore, there must be another one somewhere. Q. E. D.”
“I suppose I was expecting that they would dance in the house,”
“Much too hot,” Bing replied. “But somehow we have to get into the house later.”
There was no need for him to say more. Melina remembered, with a littl
