A dark flush mounted to his brow. She had touched a number of his refined sensibilities. Her words were so true and so simple, and her tone was quite calm, showing no personal emotion but merely as though she were announcing a fact.
"That is unfortunately true, but these are only ridiculous conventions, which please let us brush aside. May I really sit down for a minute?"
Katherine glanced at the clock; it was half-past three.
"Until a quarter to four, if you wish. I am afraid I cannot spare more time than that."
She pointed to the armchair which he took, and she reseated herself at the table, folding her hands. There was a moment's silence. The Duke was feeling uncomfortably disturbed. There had been a subtle rebuke conveyed in her late speech, which he knew he merited. He had no right to have come there.
"Are you not going to talk to me at all, then?" he almost blurted out.
"I will answer, of course, when Your Grace speaks; it is not for me to begin."
"Very well, I not only speak—I implore—I even order you to discontinue this ridiculous humility, this ridiculous continuance of 'Your Grace,' resume the character of guest, and let us enjoy these miserable fifteen minutes—but first, I want to know what is the necessity for your total change of manner here? Gerard and Gwendoline knew that you were Lady Garribardine's secretary that night, but they did not consider it imperative to make a startling difference in their relations towards you because of that, as it seems that you would wish me to make now."
Katherine looked down and then up again straight into his eyes, a slight smile quivered round her mouth.
"That is quite different—they know me very well—and dear Miss Gwendoline is not very intelligent. I have been there before to help to entertain bores for Mr. Strobridge and Lady Beatrice, but that night I was there—because I wanted to see—Your Grace."