She affected to study him with a disinterested air. “I don’t believe you have a wife,” she said wickedly. “You haven’t a married look.”
“What kind of a look is that?”
“Oh, a sort of apologetic look.”
“Well, as a matter of fact, I’m not married,” he said, grinning.
“Have you a sweetheart?” she asked in her abrupt way, so like a boy’s.
Stonor regarded his pipe-bowl attentively, but did not thereby succeed in masking his blushes.
“Aha! You have!” she cried. “No need to answer.”
“That depends on what you mean,” he said, determined not to let her outface him. “If you mean a regular cut and dried affair, no.”
“But you’re in love.”
“Some might say so.”