"I forgot to tell you," she said; "my name is Gore—Mrs. Cecil Gore."
With the light of audacity in his face, Nevins laid his hand upon the window.
"And where is the Honorable Cecil?" he asked.
A flash of irritation darkened Mariana's eyes. She laughed with a ring of recklessness.
"The Lord forbid that I should know!" she replied.
She motioned to the coachman, and the carriage rolled rapidly away. Nevins stood looking after it until it turned the corner. When the last wheel vanished, he spoke slowly:
"Well, I'll be blessed!" he said.
Ardly stooped and picked up a violet that lay upon the curbing.
"And so will I," he responded.
"Have a whiskey?"