In the course of conversation the Spaniard leant across and said to Agatha--
“Have you seen this month’s Commentator, Miss Ingham-Baker?”
An unaccountable silence fell upon the assembled guests. Eve Challoner’s face turned quite white. Her eyes were lowered to her plate. No one looked at her except the Count, and his glance was momentary.
“Yes--and of course I have read the Spanish sketch. I suppose every one in London has! It makes me want to go to Spain.”
Mrs. Ingham-Baker bridled and glanced at the Spaniard. Agatha might be a countess yet--a foreign one, but still a countess. Fitz was looking at De Lloseta. He naturally concluded that it was he who had written the article. He was still watching his face when the Spaniard turned to him and said--
“And you, Fitz? You know something about the matter too!”
And Eve Challoner betrayed herself completely. No one happened to be looking at her except Cipriani de Lloseta, and he saw that not only had she written the celebrated articles, but that she loved Fitz. Fitz’s opinion was the only one worth hearing. In her anxiety to hear it, she quite forgot to guard her secret.
“Yes,” answered Fitz, wondering what De Lloseta was leading up to. “I have read them both, of course. I hope there are more. The man knows what he is writing about.”
“He does,” said the Count, smiling across the table at Eve.
The girl was moistening her lips, which seemed suddenly to have become dry and feverish. Her hands were trembling. She had evidently been terribly afraid of the opinion so innocently asked by the Spaniard.