“He’d just contradicted your father flatly as you came downstairs. And on a matter concerning horses. However—the breeze has passed. But, tell me,” he stared at her gravely, “why the sudden invasion?”
Her eyebrows went up a little. “May I ask why not?” she said, coldly. “Surely my brother can invite a friend to the house if he wishes.”
“I stand corrected,” answered Longworth, quietly. “Has he known him long?”
“I haven’t an idea,” said the girl. “And after all, Mr. Longworth, I hadn’t known you very long when I asked you.”
And then, because she realised that there was a possibility of construing rather more into her words than she had intended, she turned abruptly to speak to another guest. So she failed to see the sudden inscrutable look that came into Archie Longworth’s keen blue eyes—the quick clenching of his powerful fists. But when a few minutes later she again turned to him, he was just his usual lazy self.
“Do you think your logic is very good?” he demanded. “You might have made a mistake as well.”
“You mean that you think my brother has?” she said, quickly.
“It is visible on the surface to the expert eye,” he returned, gravely. “But, in addition, I happen to have inside information.”
“Do you know Mr. Perrison, then?”
He nodded. “Yes, I have—er—met him before.”