She offered no comment, and a rather blank silence followed. If Belfield had sought a reassurance, he had not received it. On the other hand she gave away no secrets. She, like the silence, was blank, looking away from him, down High Street.
The Bird passed the window; Jack Rock trotted by on a young horse; one of his business equipages clattered along not far behind him; the quiet old street basked and dozed in the sun.
"What a dear rest it is—this little town!" said the Nun softly. "Surely nothing but what's happy and peaceful and pleasant can ever happen here?"
Sally Dutton came by, returning from a stroll to which she had betaken herself on Belfield's arrival.
"Well, Sally, been amusing yourself?" the Nun called.
"The streets present their usual gay and animated aspect," observed Miss Dutton, as she entered the Lion.
"There are the two sides of the question," laughed Belfield. "The line between peace and dullness—each man draws it for himself—in pencil—with india-rubber handy! I'm really afraid we're not amusing Miss Dutton?"
"Oh yes, she's all right. That's only her way." She smiled reflectively; Sally always amused her.
Belfield rose to take leave. "We can't let Nutley beat us," he said. "We must have you at Halton too!" He was led into assuming that his little domestic struggle would end in victory.
She looked at him, still smiling. "Wait and see how I behave at Nutley first. If Harry gives a good report of me—I suppose he'll be there?—ask me to Halton!"