Her eyes still remained closed, but her head fell a little on one side. It was not until I had asked her again what was the matter that she spoke.
"It's—it's dreadful!" she moaned. "I—I can see you haven't heard——"
"What is? Come, come!" I said, with some concern but more impatience. "No, I've not heard anything to take on like this about—unless you mean something about Archie's father?..."
"No, it's nothing to do with Archie's father. Oh, I can't possibly tell you, Jeff——"
It was on the tip of my tongue to say that in that case it was of little use my remaining; but she went on.
"Just a minute," she said. "You haven't heard ... about Louie Causton?"
I was certainly surprised. You will remember that I had not set eyes on Miss Causton since the evening of the breaking-up party, when she had danced twice round the room with me, sought me out again subsequently, and told me what the result had since falsified—that she was returning to the college in the new term.
"No," I said abruptly. "What about her? Nothing wrong, I hope?"
But she only sobbed, "Oh, Jeff!" and with her eyes still closed put out a helpless hand.
I had to approach and take the hand before I learned what the mystery was. I don't know whether you have already guessed it. I hadn't, but for all that my surprise, great as it was, passed even in the moment of Kitty's broken whispering in my ear. I had known Louie Causton for a deep, still pool; I don't think any revelation whatever could have added to my respect for her powers of irony and nonchalance; and yet when I say that my surprise passed it passed only to return. Good gracious!... I seemed to hear her carefully lackadaisical voice again as she had munched nougat: "So long since I've seen a man, my dear" ... and other circumstances, unmarked at the time, flashed on me now.