"In spite of my eyes and hair?"
"In spite of your eyes and hair—you see, a woman knows instinctively whom she must fear and whom not to fear."
"Well?"
"And you are one I do not fear, and, I think, never should."
"Hum!" said I, rubbing my chin, "I am only twenty-five!"
"Twenty-five is—twenty-five!" said she demurely.
"And yet, I am very like—him—you said so yourself!"
"Him!" she exclaimed, starting. "I had forgotten all about him. Where is he—what has become of him?" and she glanced apprehensively towards the door.
"Half way to Tonbridge—or should be by now."
"Tonbridge!" said she, in a tone of amazement, and turned to look at me again.