"Have you and Mr. Cressy met before?"
He raised his head with a jerk and looked at her a moment in astonishment.
"Do you mind if I answer your question American fashion by asking another?" he said presently. "What put it into your head that we may have met before?"
"The way you looked at each other at the club, and again this morning."
Kerr shook his head. "You are an observant young person! The fact is, I've never met him—of that I'm certain, but I believe I've seen him before, and for the life of me, I can't think where. At the moment you spoke I was trying to remember."
"Was it in this country?" Flora prompted, hopeful of fishing something definite out of this vagueness.
"No, it was years ago. It must have been in England." He looked at her inquiringly, as if he expected her to help him.
"Oh, Harry's been in England," she said quickly; and then, with a flashing thought, came to her the one scene Harry had mentioned in his English experience. Was it at a ball? The question came to her lips, but she checked it there. She remembered how Harry had stopped her the night before with a nod, with a look, from mentioning that very thing. Still she hesitated—for the temptation was strong. But no; it was only loyal to Harry to speak to him first.
"So you're not going to tell me?" Kerr remarked, and she came back to a sudden consciousness of how her face must have reflected her thought.
"No—not this time!" she said, smiling, though somewhat flushed.