‘What are you thinking of?’ asked Gundred at last.
‘I am wondering,’ replied Kingston, ‘what, precisely, is going on behind those inscrutable eyes of yours—what thoughts are playing about behind that cool white forehead of yours. And the worst of it is that I can never find out. You will never let me in of your own accord; and if I took an axe and forced my way in I should only find a mess of blood and bone.’
‘Don’t be horrid,’ said Gundred, shuddering. ‘I am sure I tell you everything I think. I hide nothing from you.’
‘Perhaps not, you well-mannered Sphinx. But you reveal nothing. Nothing about you gives any index to your thoughts. You are too fearfully and wonderfully trained. I have seen you suffering agonies of boredom with a smile; I have seen you suffering torments of cold and discomfort with the sweetest blandness. No one can ever guess what a person like that is really thinking. For all I know, you may, at this very moment, be remarking a smut on my nose or a blemish on my character. Your behaviour gives no clue.’
‘But, Kingston dear,’ protested Gundred, moved by this denunciation, ‘you would not have a rude and boorish wife, I am sure. And you know I have no fault to find with you. I think I have shown that—yes?’
‘With really rude people one knows where one is. Their amiability means true friendship and true approval. With your suave, elegant, charming sort smiles may mean anything or nothing. One never knows where one is. “Mind you come again soon,” you tell me, ever so pleasantly. And the very instant before you have said exactly the same thing, in the same cordial inflection, with the same inviting smile, to some woman whom I know you intensely dislike, and only allow inside the house on sufferance. Now, what am I to think?’
Gundred began to feel quite distressed.
‘But, Kingston,’ she cried, ‘one must be civil. One simply must. Why do you attack me like this? What have I done?’
‘You are such a beautiful little icicle,’ answered her lover. ‘Will you never thaw? You are an icicle inside an iron safe. How can one get at you to thaw you?’
‘How utterly absurd you are, Kingston! Haven’t I given you the key? Besides—oh, I’m not an icicle; I’m not a bit of an icicle. Only—well, what is it you want?’