Miss Davison looked at him with a frown.
“Do you still persist then,” said she, “in believing that it was I you saw that night in the crowd opposite Chislehurst House?”
Gerard met her eyes fairly and frankly.
“I’m quite sure of it,” he said simply.
“Most extraordinary!” said she.
He was annoyed with her for persisting in her pretense that he was mistaken.
“And I am sure,” he went on stubbornly, “that Lady Jennings has an idea that there is something strange going on.”
Miss Davison was prepared for this, evidently.
“I shouldn’t like to answer for all the fancies the dear old lady takes into her head,” she said. “But I’m sorry that you should think it necessary to encourage her in them.”
He could say nothing to this, but drew back, growing very red. Raising his hat, he was about to withdraw without another word, when Miss Davison, suddenly sitting up again, imperiously made an emphatic gesture of command to him to return. Then looking him full in the face she said coldly—