"Not at all," she said, breaking it off altogether.
As the mist cleared she had a vivid impression of a tall, fair young man against a background of palms. "Eyes burning under a white marble mantel-piece," she summed up his face. Could this uncrippled, rather good-looking person be Bob?
"Won't you come in, Mr. Robert?" she said riskily.
"I only wished to thank you," he said, sliding a step or two into the room.
"There is nothing to thank me for," she said, whirling her stool to face him. "It's my way of amusing myself." She was glad she was in her evening frock.
"Amusing yourself!" He looked aghast.
"What else? I am alone—I have nothing better in the world to do."
"Does it amuse you?" He was flushed now, even the marble mantel-piece ruddied by the flame. "I wish it amused me."
Now it was Eileen's turn to gasp. "Then why do you listen?"
"I don't listen—I bury myself as far away as I can."