He raised his glance to hers and said:
"No—I didn't like him."
Lorry leaned from her chair, her eyebrows lifted, her expression mischievously confidential.
"Then we have one taste in common—neither do I."
She was surprised to see Mark flush, and his gaze widen to a piercing fixity. She thought her plain speaking had offended him and hastened to excuse it:
"I know that isn't a nice thing to say about a guest in your house, and I don't say it to everybody—only to you. Are you shocked?"
"No, I'm relieved. But I couldn't think you would like him."
"Why? All the other girls do."
"You're not like the other girls. You're—" He stopped abruptly, again dropped his eyes and said, "He's no good—he's a fake."
"There!" She was quite eager in her agreement. "That's just the impression he gives me. I felt it the first time I saw him."