'Was it Miss Newthorpe?' he asked, looking at her without a smile.
'Yes, that was her name.'
She met his look. Walter half turned away, then bent down to the books again.
'I know her,' he said. 'She plays well.'
He took a couple of volumes, and went with them to the shelves, where he placed them, without thought, next to the Gibbon. But in a moment he noticed the title, and moved them to another place. He had become absent. Thyrza, remaining by the case, followed his movements with her eyes. As he came back, he asked:
'Did you like Mrs. Ormonde?'
'Yes. She was very kind to me.'
To him it seemed an inadequate reply, and strengthened his fear that Mrs. Ormonde had not shown all the warmth he would have desired. Yet, as it proved, she had asked Annabel to play for Thyrza. Thyrza, too, felt that she ought to say more, but all at once she found a difficulty in speaking. Her thoughts had strayed.
'I think I must go now,' she said, 'or I shall miss my sister.'
'In that case, I won't delay you. I shall open one or two more of these boxes, then go somewhere for lunch. Good-bye!'