She stirred very slightly in her seat. It was the instinctive movement of a woman bracing herself secretly for a coming shock.
"Really?"
"Yes, really. That was what I meant to tell you the other day, but there was no fitting opportunity. I recognized you at once."
"And I you," she returned.
He whistled.
"So we recognized each other and didn't recognize each other. Rather a queer thing, eh?"
Again there was that scarcely noticeable stiffening of her whole body.
"I see nothing queer about it. We were both taken aback, and after the first shock we realized that to acknowledge a previous meeting was not to either of our advantages. You were ashamed; and I—well, you can guess my reasons."
"By Jove! You know, you really are plucky!" he burst out, with genuine admiration.
"Thank you. You have intimated that to me already, and, as a matter of fact, there is no question of pluck. I'm taking the bull by the horns because I must. Mr. Travers, I can't live in the same place with you and not know if you are going to explode the mine under our feet or not. I may have nerve, but I haven't got nerve enough for that."