“And seen.”
“You’re exceedingly catholic!” he smiled.
“You’re exceedingly exclusive—and precipitate; and you haven’t answered my question. Wherein is Mrs. Clephane different from the rest of us?”
“At the risk of being personal,” he replied, “I should say that she is very like you in face and figure and manner. If her hair were black, the resemblance would be positively striking.”
“Then, since we’re on the personal equation, the difference is where?”
He threw up his hands and laughed to avoid the obvious answer, an answer which she knew, and knew he wished to avoid.
“The difference is where?” she repeated.
“I shall let you judge if there is a difference, and if there is, what it is,” he replied.
“I wish to know your mind, Mr. Harleston—I already know my own.”
“Good girl!” he applauded.