“You must remember,” he went on, after a short pause, “that I am in a somewhat peculiar position with regard to you, Beatrice. I know so little that I do not even know how to answer in your interests such questions as Mrs. Wenham Gardner asked me. I am not complaining, but is this state of absolute ignorance necessary?”
A new thought seemed to come to Beatrice. She looked at her companion curiously.
“Tell me,” she asked, “what did you think of Mrs. Wenham Gardner?”
Tavernake answered deliberately, and after a moment's reflection.
“I thought her,” he said, “one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen in my life. That is not saying very much, perhaps, but to me it meant a good deal. She was exceedingly gracious and her interest in you seemed quite real and even affectionate. I do not understand why you should wish to hide from such a woman.”
“You found her attractive?” Beatrice persisted.
“I found her very attractive indeed,” Tavernake admitted, without hesitation. “She had an air with her. She was quite different from all the women I have ever met at the boarding-house or anywhere else. She has a face which reminded me somehow of the Madonnas you took me to see in the National Gallery the other day.”
Beatrice shivered slightly. For some reason, his remark seemed to have distressed her.
“I am very, very sorry,” she declared, “that Elizabeth ever came to your office. I want you to promise me, Leonard, that you will be careful whenever you are with her.”
Tavernake laughed.