"You've met his sister, Mrs. Durlacher—haven't you?" he asked presently.
She saw no motive in this. She felt thankful for it—glad to be able to say that she had.
"She was at Prince's the other day when I was there and she told me that Jack had taken you down to Apsley."
"Yes, I went down with him in April."
"Lovely place—isn't it?"
"Yes, I thought it was wonderful. Did Mrs. Durlacher talk to you about me at all?"
She could not hold herself from that curiosity. Into her voice she drilled all the orderliness of casual inquiry; but give way to it she must. Devenish thought of all the things that Traill's sister had said to him; he thought of the many others, far more potent, that she had left unsaid in the silent parenthesis of insinuation.
"She said how pretty she thought you were," he replied.
Had he thought that would please her? Scarcely. If he knew her mood at all, he must have realized that this was but the sponge of vinegar held to the lips, softened but little, if at all, with the gentle flavour of hyssop.
They had finished dinner now and were just sipping coffee preparatory to departure.