He paused, loth to say more. His proud soul revolted at the idea of being jealous—vulgarly, grotesquely jealous of anyone; yet he eyed her with pain and anger mingled.
'Oh, you refer to Bob Hoyle—poor Bob! Hester knows about him,' said Annot, after a little pause, in which she grew, if possible, paler, and certainly more confused.
'He is not a visitor here—and yet you have been seen with him in the park and lawn.'
'Yes. Can I be less than polite when he escorted me home from the meet—in the dusk, too?'
'And who the deuce is Bob Hoyle?'
'I have mentioned him to Hester,' replied Annot, still evasively.
'But who is he visiting in this locality?'
'I do not know.'
'Not know—how?'
'Simply because I never asked him.'