A look crept into her eyes which puzzled him.
“Over to your side,” she repeated thoughtfully. “Do you mind telling me exactly what you mean by that?”
As though by accident the delicate white hand from which she had just withdrawn her glove touched his, and remained there as though inviting his clasp. She looked quickly up at him and drooped her eyes. Wolfenden took her hand, patted it kindly, and replaced it in her lap.
“Look here, Blanche,” he said, “I won’t affect to misunderstand you; but haven’t you learnt by this time that adventures are not in my way?—less now than at any time perhaps.”
She was watching his face and read its expression with lightning-like truth.
“Bah!” she said, “there is no man who would be so brutal as you unless——”
“Unless what?”
“He were in love with another girl!”
“Perhaps I am, Blanche!”
“I know that you are.”