Still I could not reply. I dared not even look at her.
She did not, however, appear to notice my confusion, or else my eyes played false. Her voice was just as even as it wandered on at the impulse of her rambling fancy, as I thought.
"I have been thinking, Brown, that you were not born a servant," she said quietly. "Will you tell me if I guessed aright?"
No prescience warned me of a snare. Had any other woman asked me such a question I should have smiled and lied, knowing well that woman's deepest policy is to persuade with flatteries. But Marion questioned, and I answered from my heart.
"My father was a gentleman by birth, madam."
"Ah!" she sighed. "He met with some unhappiness, no doubt?"
"He lies in a pauper's grave. He was a great musician."
"And have you inherited his talent?"
"I play the flute and violin indifferently well, madam."
"And you are educated too, for I have marked your speech?"