"Is this the Inquisition or is it Durand's?"
"It's somewhere where we both are," she said, without a trace of sentiment; "that's good enough for me. Do you know I've been married since I saw you last? And left a widow—in a short three months it all happened. And—well I'm not very clever, as you know, but—can you imagine what it is like to be married to a man who doesn't understand a single word you say, unless it's about the weather or things to eat? No, don't look shocked. He was a good fellow, and very happy till the motor accident took him and left me this."
She shewed a scar on her smooth arm.
"What a woman it is for surprises! So he was very happy? But of course he was."
"Yes, of course, as you say. I was a model wife. I wore black for a whole year too!"
"Why did you marry him?"
"Well, at the time I thought you might hear of it and be disappointed, or hurt, or something."
"So I am," said Vernon with truth.
"You needn't be," said she. "You'll find me much nicer now I don't want to disappoint you or hurt you, but only to have a good time, and there's no nonsense about love to get in the way, and spoil everything."
"So you're—But this isn't proper! Here am I dining with a lady and I don't even know her name!"