“But at the present time you prefer solitude? For the purposes of your work? As a change from the stimulating atmosphere of the city?”
Any mention of her work made Lexy uncomfortable.
“Well, yes,” she answered in a dubious tone.
“I lived in New York myself for a number of years,” he went on. “I wonder if you—may I ask what part of the city you lived in, Miss Moran?”
Lexy hesitated, and she meant him to see that she hesitated. After all, however, it was not an unnatural or impertinent question, and she couldn’t very well refuse to answer it.
“In the East Sixties, near the park,” she said. “It wasn’t my own home, though—I was a companion,” she added.
She always liked people to know that. She was far from being cynical, but she was aware that this information made a difference—to some people.
She was astonished to see the difference it made in Dr. Quelton. He raised his black, weary eyes to her face and stared at her with unmistakable insolence.
“Ah!” he said. “I see! I thought so!”
There was a moment’s silence.