“I have known him for years—oh, yes, for him, I can answer. He was not in the least in love.”
“I did not ask that question,” said Beatrice rather haughtily. “I knew he was not.”
“Of course, of course. I beg your pardon!”
Keyork was learning more from her than she from him. It was true that she took no trouble to conceal her interest in the Wanderer and his doings.
“Are you sure that he has left the city?” Beatrice asked.
“No, I am not positive. I could not say with certainty.”
“When did you see him last?”
“Within the week, I am quite sure,” Keyork answered with alacrity.
“Do you know where he was staying?”
“I have not the least idea,” the little man replied, without the slightest hesitation. “We met at first by chance in the Teyn Kirche, one afternoon—it was a Sunday, I remember, about a month ago.”