"Really? You knew her as a child?"
"She was just fifteen when I saw her first," said Leonard, his voice husky with the emotion called up by the reminiscence. "It was her birthday, I remember, and one of her cousins asked me to go home to tea with him. They were great people for birthdays, her relations."
"Were they?" Eva adjusted her veil carefully. "Friendly, sociable sort of people, I suppose. Was Mr. Rose there that night?"
"Mr. Rose?" For a moment Leonard, lost in dreams of the past, stared uncomprehendingly. Then he pulled himself together vigorously. "No, Mr. Rose was not there in those days. He—he came on the scene much later than that."
"Did he? Was he also a friend of Mrs. Rose's cousins?"
"Oh, no." Mr. Dowson became emphatic. "Nothing of that sort. Toni—Miss Gibbs she was then—met him in the course of business. As a matter of fact, she was his secretary. And then he fell in love with her; and the next thing was that they were married." His tone was dreary.
"Ah, well, I don't wonder he fell in love." Eva watched him closely through the mirror as she spoke. "I have no doubt Mrs. Rose had heaps of admirers at that time. Why, Mr. Dowson"—she spoke laughingly—"what were you about not to seize such a prize before an outsider sailed in and captured it?"
Leonard's pallor gave way to an unbecoming brick-red flush, and his voice shook as he replied:
"I ... I wasn't lucky, you see. I—I would have given my life for that girl, Mrs. Herrick, and she—she wouldn't have me at any price."
His tone of desperate sincerity told Eva all she wanted to know; and in a moment she switched the conversation back to safer ground.