“Because I think it, that’s why. It’s one of the strangest things in the world that people in love think all the rest of the world blind and deaf. And a woman lets her secret out just as readily as a man. I say Anne Clavering likes you. I don’t say she is pining and can’t eat and sleep for you; but I do say she likes you, though. And I feel sorry for the girl—such a family! You ought to see how that divorcée, Mrs. Denman, goes on with Count von Kappf, who, I believe, has been sent over here by a syndicate to marry an American heiress. Nobody knows what Anne Clavering has to suffer for the conduct of that sister of hers.”
“And you, who call yourself a Christian, had to add to Miss Clavering’s mortification.”
“Oh, it was only a trifle, and she came out ahead.”
“Anyhow, you shall apologize to her. Do you understand me, Sara Luttrell? You shall apologize, and before me, too.”
“Very well,” replied Mrs. Luttrell, unabashed. “The first time I catch you and Anne Clavering together I’ll apologize.”
Baskerville sat silent for a while as Mrs. Luttrell luxuriously toasted her toes. Presently he said, “So people are kind enough to say that I am in love with Miss Clavering?”
“Yes, indeed. People are always kind enough to say things—and a great many people are saying that you are in love with her. You haven’t escaped notice as much as you thought.”
“I don’t desire to escape notice. And I only hope enough people will say it so it will get to Miss Clavering’s ears. Then she may not be so surprised as to throw me over when—the opportunity comes. I may be a good many sorts of a blamed fool, Sara, but I am not such a fool as to be anything but flattered when my name is associated with Miss Clavering’s.”
“Very decently said. But how are you going to manage about this senatorial investigation—trying to ruin the father as a preliminary to marrying the daughter?”