"You only suppose, Nansie."
"Yes, uncle, I can do nothing else, because Kingsley has never said anything about it."
"Surely, if he really knew," persisted Mr. Loveday, "he would not be so silent on the subject."
"Perhaps you are right, uncle; perhaps Kingsley does not really know."
"If Mr. Seymour were travelling with any specific object in view, there would be no need for secrecy. Say that he were an enthusiast, that he had a craze, no matter in what shape, he would not disguise it."
"Certainly not, uncle. Mr. Seymour must be travelling simply for pleasure."
"Which is not a simple matter, Nansie," observed Mr. Loveday, "when a man runs after it. I can imagine few things more laborious and less likely of a satisfactory result. Now, Nansie, what are your husband's duties in his employment?"
"He does not say, uncle."
"Do you think he has any?"
"I suppose so."