“You didn’t feel that before?”
Dick knew that he was on dangerous ground. He must not admit that he suspected Kenwardine’s motive for receiving promiscuous guests.
“Well, not to the same extent. You see, Lance knows everybody and everybody likes him. I thought I might be welcome for his sake.”
“It’s plain that you are fond of your cousin. But why did you imagine that I should think your visit an intrusion?”
Dick was glad he sat in the shadow, for his face was getting hot. He could not hint that he had expected to find a rather daring coquette—the kind of girl, in fact, one would imagine a semi-professional gambler’s daughter to be. It now seemed possible that he had misjudged Kenwardine; and he had certainly misjudged Clare. The girl’s surroundings were powerless to smirch her: Dick was sure of that.
“Oh, well,” he answered awkwardly, “although Lance obviously knows your father pretty well, it doesn’t follow that he’s a friend of yours.”
“It does not,” she said in a curious tone. “But do you know the man he was with?”
“I never saw him before, and somehow I don’t feel anxious to improve his acquaintance.”
Clare laughed.
“That’s a quick decision, isn’t it? Are you a judge of character?” she asked.