"Unless, sir?"
"Unless I—I had dreamed it possible that you—could ever have—loved me." Barnabas was actually stammering, and he was looking at her—pleadingly, she knew, but this time my lady kept her face averted, of course. Wherefore Barnabas sighed, and his head drooping, stared at the ground again. And after he had stared thus, for perhaps a full minute, my lady spoke, but with her face still averted.
"The moon is at the full to-night, I think?"
Barnabas (lifting his head suddenly). "Yes."
Cleone (quite aware of his quick glance). "And—how do you like—the Duchess?"
Barnabas (staring at the ground again). "I don't know."
Cleone (with unnecessary emphasis). "Why, she is the dearest, best, cleverest old godmother in all the world, sir!"
Barnabas (humbly). "Yes."
Cleone (with a side glance). "Are you riding back to London to-night?"
Barnabas (nodding drearily). "Yes."