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Updated: May 20, 2025
An explanation was forthcoming, somewhere, and Mrs. McFee was equal to it. "Mrs. Eppingwell," and her Celtic voice rose shrilly, "it is with great pleasure I make you acquainted with Freda Moloof, Miss Freda Moloof, as I understand." Freda involuntarily turned. With her own face bared, she felt as in a dream, naked, upon her turned the clothed features and gleaming eyes of the masked circle.
"I'll thank you for my mask, Mrs. McFee." That lady, for the nonce speechless, turned over the article in question. "Good-night, Miss Moloof." Mrs. Eppingwell was royal even in defeat. Freda reciprocated, though barely downing the impulse to clasp the other's knees and beg forgiveness, no, not forgiveness, but something, she knew not what, but which she none the less greatly desired.
The majority of the gold-hunters seemed to have centered their verdict on the 'Russian Princess, who was the most graceful in the room, and hence could be no other than Freda Moloof. During a quadrille a roar of satisfaction went up. She was discovered. At previous balls, in the figure, 'all hands round, Freda had displayed an inimitable step and variation peculiarly her own.
I am only a dancing girl. What do you with this man?" "Such unprecedented behavior!" Mrs. McFee ruffled herself and cleared for action, but Mrs. Eppingwell shut her mouth with a look and developed a new attack. "Since Miss Moloof appears to hold claims upon you, Mr. Vanderlip, and is in too great haste to grant me a few seconds of your time, I am forced to appeal directly to you.
Once he drew Cal Galbraith aside and hazarded wild guesses as to who she was, and explained to him that he was going in to win. That rankled the Circle City King, for man is not by nature monogamic, and he forgot both Madeline and Freda in the new quest. It was soon noised about that the 'Russian Princess' was not Freda Moloof. Interest deepened. Here was a fresh enigma.
"I'm very sorry," from Freda. "There isn't time. He must come at once." The conventional phrases dropped easily from her lips, but she could not forbear to smile inwardly at their inadequacy and weakness. She would much rather have shrieked. "But, Miss Moloof, who are you that you may possess yourself of Mr. Vanderlip and command his actions?"
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