'I mean—what harm is there in having a little conversation when one is away from home? At the inn to-day, you know, I can't help thinking we were rather—perhaps a little too silent.'
'My dear Rose, did you want to talk about beer?'
She reddened, but answered all the more emphatically.
'Of course not. But, when the first gentleman came in, wouldn't it have been natural to exchange a few friendly words? I'm sure he wouldn't have talked of beer to us'
'The gentleman? I saw no gentleman, my dear. I suppose he was a small clerk, or something of the sort, and he had no business whatever to address us.'
'Oh, but he only said good morning, and apologised for sitting at our table. He needn't have apologised at all.'
'Precisely. That is just what I mean,' said Mr. Whiston with self-satisfaction. 'My dear Rose, if I had been alone, I might perhaps have talked a little, but with you it was impossible. One cannot be too careful. A man like that will take all sorts of liberties. One has to keep such people at a distance.
A moment's pause, then Rose spoke with unusual decision—
'I feel quite sure, father, that he would not have taken liberties. It seems to me that he knew quite well how to behave himself.'
Mr. Whiston grew still more puzzled. He closed his book to meditate this new problem.