"Waiting," he answered imperturbably. "Waiting for dinner and Mr. Eddie."
"Oh, him! Well, he’s in. I saw him up-stairs."
"But do, for pity’s sake, tell me who you are! We don’t take pretty girls wandering about this house as a matter of course. You’re quite a startling vision, you know."
She didn’t like his airy gallantry; but she was sure now that he wasn’t an outside thief or a servant, and that he must therefore be a member of the family, entitled to answers for questions.
"I’m her companion," she said.
"Aha! And what is your name, if you please?"
"It’s Kennedy."
"Oh! Scotch, are you? You don’t look Scotch. You look like a French girl, I should say—one of these dark, passionate creatures...."
"All right!" she interrupted, scowling more heavily. "That’ll do about me. What’s the time?"
He pulled out his watch.