“The house hasn’t been what it was.” A touch of sadness in Trenter’s voice had its origin in obscure sources.
Methodical as Gordon was, he never counted his cigars. Diana, on the other hand, had an eye for quantity. It was she who asked delicately whether he thought there were mice in the house, and, if so, did he think that they preferred Coronas to cheese.
“There’s a big change coming—a terrific change. I feel it in my bones,” he said. “And I know! I’ve always had second sight even as a boy.”
“You should wear glasses,” said Eleanor.
CHAPTER V
On an afternoon in late summer Heloise van Oynne looked across the darkening river, seemed for a moment absorbed in the gay lighting of one of the moored house-boats, and then:
“Tell me some more about Diana, please. She must be fas-cinating!” she pleaded.
Her companion shifted a little uncomfortably. He had already said more about Diana than he wished or intended saying.
“Well ... you know all about Diana. I hope you will meet her ... some day.”
There was just that little pause before the last word that meant so much to a woman with an acute sense of tone, and Heloise was supersensitive because it was her business to be. To-day she seemed unusually ethereal.