Olivia flushed.
“Do you think my father values a man by the size of the house he inhabits, Mr. Faradeane?”
“I think him a high-minded English gentleman,” he responded, with grave earnestness, “but between a man in his position and a man in mine there is a vast difference.”
Olivia bit her lip, and turned aside with a slight bow.
“Will you give these to Bessie, Alford?” she said, as if she had finished with Mr. Faradeane.
He stood with his dark, sad eyes fixed on the ground; then he approached her.
“I have offended you,” in a low, almost an appealing voice.
Olivia turned to him with lowered lids.
“Oh, no.”
“Your words say ‘No,’ but your tone says ‘Yes,’” he said.