She laughed.
“You learn rapidly. But I’d better say in excuse that I didn’t think I’d involved you in a very serious risk. He hasn’t your eyes and hands—one couldn’t expect it. You don’t need pick-me-ups in the morning, do you?”
Lisle was slightly embarrassed. This girl’s knowledge of life was too extensive, and he would have preferred that she should exhibit it to somebody else.
“Well,” she concluded as they approached the tea-table, “my thanks are yours, even if you don’t value them.”
“What do you expect me to say?” he asked, regarding her with some amusement and appreciation. She was alluringly pretty in her rather elaborate light dress.
“Yes,” she smiled mockingly, disregarding his question; “these things become me better than the tweeds, don’t they? They make one look nice and soft and fluffy; but that’s deceptive. You see, I can scratch; in fact, I felt I could have scratched Batley badly if I’d got the chance. There’s another hint for you—make what you like of it.”
Then with a laugh she swung round and left him, puzzled.