Winthrop smiled.
“Quite satisfied,” he answered. “Won’t you sit down?”
Julian hesitated and then took the chair indicated, seating himself very erect on the edge, his riding-whip across his knees.
“Will you smoke?” asked Winthrop, holding forth his cigarette-case.
“No, thanks,” replied Julian, stiffly.
There was a moment’s silence while Winthrop lighted his cigarette and Julian observed him darkly. Then—
“Mr. Winthrop,” said Julian, “how long do you intend to remain here, sir?”
“My plans are a bit unsettled,” answered Winthrop, tossing the burnt match onto the walk. “I had intended leaving Sunday, but my accident prevented. Now I am undecided. May I enquire your reason for asking, Mr. Wayne?”
“Because I wanted to know,” answered Julian, bluntly. “Your presence here is—is distasteful to me and embarrassing to Miss India and Miss Holly.”