"I ... I don't think I have read it," she said, wishing suddenly that she had not been forced to make the admission.
"No? Well it has not been out long." He was turning the pages as he spoke. "There's something else here—another special article on Mysticism by Father Garland, which is oddly fascinating. Of course such a subject, treated by one of the greatest mystics who ever lived, was bound to be of the highest interest; but I never expected anything quite so arresting, so satisfying, when I began to read."
He paused, evidently waiting for her to speak; but Toni sat tongue-tied, miserably conscious that in her mind no answering enthusiasm could be born, since she had neither read nor wished to read a single word of the article in question.
A hint of her mental discomfort probably reached the man on the sofa by some telepathic means, for he suddenly tossed away the review and spoke in a lighter tone.
"How long have you been punting, Mrs. Rose?"
"Oh, a very short time," she said rather apologetically. "My husband has given me some lessons since we came down here. He doesn't know I sometimes go out alone," she added ingenuously. "I don't go very often, because I know I'm not much good. But to-day I saw some people coming to call and I ran out of the house and jumped into the punt so that I could escape."
Herrick smiled.
"What—are you like me? Do you avoid your fellow-creatures on principle?"
She looked a little puzzled.
"Oh no, I don't avoid people when I know them. But I've had such heaps of callers, and it's such a waste of time making conversation over tea when one wants to be out in the sunshine."