“Yes, alone.”
“You haven’t had dinner?”
“No.”
He seemed to be in rather a gloomy mood, but Monica noticed nothing that alarmed her. He was drawing nearer, his eyes on the ground.
“Have you had bad news—in the City?”
“Yes, I have.”
Still he came nearer, and at length, when a yard or two away, raised his look to her face.
“Have you been out this afternoon?”
She was prompted to a falsehood, but durst not utter it, so keenly was he regarding her.
“Yes, I went to see Miss Barfoot.”