“The better for seeing you, Mistress Susan.” Nonchalantly surveying her from head to foot.
She bore his glance with the assurance of a pretty woman who knows she is looking her best.
“Pooh!” Curtesying disdainfully. “I don’t believe you! You came to see some one else. Well”––lightly––“she is already engrossed.”
“Really?” said the land baron.
“Yes. You understand? He follows her with his every glance,” she added roguishly. Susan was never averse to straining the truth a little when it served her purpose.
“I should infer he was following her with more than his eyes,” retorted the master of the manor dryly.
Susan tapped the stage viciously with a little foot. “She’s a lovely girl,” she continued, drawing cabalistic figures with the provoking slipper.
“You are piqued?” he said, watching her skeptically.
“Not at all.” Quickly, startled by his blunt accusation.