She paused, and Grahame changed the subject. He might have obtained some information by judicious questions, but he could not take advantage of the girl's frankness by leading her to reveal anything she knew about her father's affairs. This would taint their friendship, which he valued.
After a time, she looked at him with a twinkle of amusement.
"I watched a little comedy shortly before dinner."
"Did you?" said Grahame. "Comedies are not unusual when one knows how to look for them, but they don't catch everybody's eye."
"This one was rather obvious; I mean the transformation of a staid Scottish engineer into a Cuban sugar-planter of convivial habits."
"Mack isn't really staid. It looks as if you didn't quite understand the Scottish character. Under its surface sobriety one's apt to find a very reckless humor. I'm a Borderer, and rather proud of it, you know. But how did the beginning of the first act strike you?"
"It seized my interest. The plot was not unusual; confused identity is a favorite theme, but I noticed some histrionic cleverness. The rake of the sombrero and the hang of the big cloak were good. They carried a hint of mild dissipation; one recognizes artistic talent in these light touches."
Grahame laughed.
"I'm not sure it was all art; experience may have had something to do with it. Mack's not an ascetic."
"But how did the play go off?"