He shook his head.
“I have no fancy,” he declared, “for the cemeteries of affection. You must remember that I am beginning life anew. I do not know myself yet, or you! Let us drift into the knowledge of one another, and perhaps—”
“Well! Perhaps?”
“There may be no question of friendship!”
Lady Ruth went back to her guests, and with the effortless ease of long training, she became once more the gracious and tactful hostess. But in her heart, the fear had grown a little stronger, and a specter walked by her side. Once during the evening, her husband looked at her questioningly, and she breathed a few words to him. He laughed reassuringly.
“Oh! Wingrave’s all right, I believe,” he said, “it’s only his manner that puts you off a bit. He’s just the same with everyone! I don’t think he means anything by it!”
Lady Ruth shivered, but she said nothing. Just then Aynesworth came up, and with a motion of her fan she called him to her.
“Please take me into the other room,” she said “I want a glass of champagne, and on the way you can tell me all about America.”
“One is always making epigrams about America,” he protested, smiling. “Won’t you spare me?”
“Tell me, then, how you progress with your great character study!”