"I think he does," agreed Caroline, masking her eyes. "He has a way, when he looks at you, of making you feel that he isn't thinking of anything else in the world but you."
"Does he have that same effect on every one?" asked Ruth. She added, after a moment of thought, "Yes, I suppose it's just a habit of his. I wish I knew."
"Why?" queried Caroline, unable to refrain from the stinging little question.
"Oh, for no good reason—just that he's an odd character. In my work, you know, one has to study character. Ronicky Doone is a different sort of man, don't you think?"
"Very different, dear."
Then a great inspiration came to Caroline. Ruth was a key which, she knew, could unlock nearly any door in the house of John Mark.
"Do you know what we are going to do?" she asked gravely, rising.
"Well?"
"We're going to open that door together, and we're going down the stairs—together."
"Together? But we—Don't you know John Mark has given orders—"