She knew at once that he was aware of every move she had made, from the first to the last. It gave her firmness to tell the lie with suavity. "It's a queer yarn, John," she said.
"I'm used to queer yarns," he answered. "But where have you been all this time? It was only to take five minutes, I thought."
She made herself laugh. "That's because you don't know Ronicky Doone,
John."
"I'm getting to know him, however," said the master. "And, before I'm done, I hope to know him very well indeed."
"Well, he has a persuasive tongue."
"I think I noticed that for myself."
"And, when he told me how poor Bill Gregg had come clear across the continent—"
"No wonder you were touched, my dear. New Yorkers won't travel so far, will they? Not for a girl, I mean."
"Hardly! But Ronicky Doone made it such a sad affair that I promised I'd go across and see Bill Gregg."
"Not in his room?"