“Then he is gone?”
“Indeed, I am not quite sure,” said Keyork, regaining all his self-possession. “Of course I can find out for you, if you wish to know. But as regards Unorna, I can tell you nothing. They were a good deal together at one time. I fancy he was consulting her. You have heard that she is a clairvoyant, I daresay.”
He made the last remark quite carelessly, as though he attached no importance to the fact.
“Then you do not know whether she loves him?”
Keyork indulged himself with a little discreet laughter, deep and musical.
“Love is a very vague word,” he said presently.
“Is it?” Beatrice asked, with some coldness.
“To me, at least,” Keyork hastened to say, as though somewhat confused. “But, of course, I can know very little about it in myself, and nothing about it in others.”
Not knowing how matters might turn out, he was willing to leave Beatrice with a suspicion of the truth, while denying all knowledge of it.
“You know him yourself, of course,” Beatrice suggested.