Still he said nothing.
“Because you know,” she continued, her eyes fixed on his, “the position is not at all impossible. All things considered, I suppose I could have a divorce for the asking.”
Clare started a little in the dark. She was beginning to guess something of the truth she could not understand. The man still said nothing, but he began to walk up and down slowly, with folded arms, along the edge of the shadow before Lady Fan as she stood still, following him with her eyes.
“You did not mean a word of what you said that afternoon? Not one word?” She spoke very slowly and distinctly.
He was silent still, pacing up and down before her. Suddenly, without a word, she turned from him and walked quickly away, towards the hotel. He started and stood still, looking after her—then he also made a step.
“Fan!” he called, in a tone she could hear, but she went on. “Mrs. Crosby!” he called again.
She stopped, turned, and waited. It was clear that Lady Fan was a nickname, Clare thought.
“Well?” she asked.
Clare clasped her hands together in her excitement, watching and listening, and holding her breath.
“Don’t go like that!” exclaimed Brook, going forward and holding out one hand.