"Mr. Spenser," said she shyly.
He halted; his companion went on. He lifted his hat, looked inquiringly at her—the look of the enthusiast and connoisseur on the subject of pretty women, when he finds a new specimen worthy of his attention.
"Don't you know me?"
His expression of puzzled and flirtatious politeness gradually cleared away. The lighting up of his eyes, the smile round his mouth delighted her; and she grew radiant when he exclaimed eagerly, "Why, it's the little girl of the rock again! How you've grown—in a year—less than a year!"
"Yes, I suppose I have," said she, thinking of it for the first time. Then, to show him at once what a good excuse she had for intruding again, she hastened to add, "I've come to pay you that money you loaned me."
He burst out laughing, drew her into the corridor where the light was brighter. "And you've gone back to your husband," he said—she noted the quick, sharp change in his voice.
"Why do you think that?" she said.
The way his eyes lingered upon the charming details toilet that indicated anything but poverty might of a have given her a simple explanation. He offered another.
"I can't explain. It's your different expression—a kind of experienced look."
The color flamed and flared in Susan's face.