"It is Miles, probably. He has been out all the afternoon."
She, too, had recovered her self-possession and was grateful to him for having ignored her outburst. Nevertheless she knew that he would not forget, any more than she would be able to do.
"Where has he been, do you know?"
"I am not sure. He found it very dull here, and went out with some English friends he has picked up. Is there any harm in that?"
Again the same note of sneering defiance! Wolff kept his face steadily averted.
"Not so far. But I do not like his English friends."
"I suppose not," she retorted. "Everybody here hates us."
"Us——?" He turned at last and looked at her.
"——the English, I mean," she stammered.
He had no opportunity to reply. The door opened, and their little maid-of-all-work entered, bearing a card.