“Yes.”
“But in your reply to my note you made no mention of the circumstances.”
Miss Barfoot kept silence; frowning slightly, she looked at the fire near which they were both sitting, for the weather had become very cold.
“No doubt,” pursued Everard, glancing at her, “you refrained out of delicacy—on my account, I mean.”
“Need we talk of it?”
“For a moment, please. You are very friendly with me nowadays, but I suppose your estimate of my character remains very much the same as years ago?”
“What is the use of such questions?”
“I ask for a distinct purpose. You can’t regard me with any respect?”
“To tell you the truth, Everard, I know nothing about you. I have no wish to revive disagreeable memories, and I think it quite possible that you may be worthy of respect.”
“So far so good. Now, in justice, please answer me another question. How have you spoken of me to Miss Nunn?”