"The Observer, if you will be so kind."
"Right."
Again the Doctor seemed to fear that he had given Speed a wrong impression of Miss Harrington. "I'm sure Mr. Speed will be interested to know that your father is a great littérateur, Clare."
Clare gave the Doctor a curious look, with one corner of her upper lip tilted at an audacious upward angle.
The Doctor went on, leaning his elbows on the table as soon as Potter had removed his soup-plate: "Mr. Harrington is the author of books on ethics."
All this time Helen had not spoken a word. Speed had been watching her, for she was already to him by far the most interesting member of the party. He noticed that her eyes were constantly shifting between Clare and anyone whom Clare was addressing; Clare seemed almost the centre of her world. When Clare smiled she smiled also, and when Clare was pensive there came into her eyes a look which held, besides pensiveness, a touch of sadness. She was an extremely beautiful girl and in the yellow light the coils of her hair shone like sheaves of golden corn on a summer's day. It was obvious that, conversationally at any rate, she was extremely shy.
Mrs. Ervine was saying: "You're going to take the music, Mr. Speed, are you not?"
Speed smiled and nodded.
She went on: "Then I suppose you're fond of music."
"Doesn't it follow?" Speed answered, with a laugh.