"Why?" He left his seat restlessly and leaned against the mantelshelf. "That sounds impertinent. All my questions have been impertinent, I am afraid. But—I should warn you—I gather that both Mr. Dinwiddie and Mrs. Oglethorpe think there is something wrong—that is, unexplained."
"Really?" She looked intensely amused. "But that is interesting. Of course I knew of Mr. Dinwiddie's curiosity from Judge Trent—but I rather thought——"
"Oh, yes, you have floored him completely. But I fancy he's more curious than ever. I—I—wish you would confide in me. I might be better able to defend you if the necessity arose."
"Don't you believe I am what I represent myself to be?"
"It is a terrible thing to say to a woman like you, but——"
He expected her to rise in her majesty and order him to leave the house, but she merely smiled again and said:
"You forget Judge Trent. Do you think if I were an impostor he would vouch for me?"
"I believe you could make any man believe what you wished him to believe."
"Except yourself."
"Remember that a newspaper man—— However, I'll speak only for myself." He thrust his hands into his pockets and tried to summon his saturnine expression, but he had an uncomfortable feeling that he looked merely wistful and boyish and that this highly accomplished woman of the world was laughing at him. "For my own sake I want to know," he blurted out. "I haven't an idea why I suspect you, and it is possible that you are what you say you are. Certainly you are far too clever not to have an alibi it would be difficult to puncture. But I sensed something that first night … something beyond the fact that you were a European and did a curious thing—which, however, I understood immediately.… It was something more.… I don't think I can put it into words … you were there, and yet you were not there … somebody else seemed to be looking out of your eyes … even when Dinwiddie thought he had explained the matter.…"