The eyes of Inez were searching his closely. When she spoke her voice was cold and even.
“Then it was Colonel Vega,” she said, “who told you I was engaged to him.”
“Of course,” said Roddy. “He told me the night we crossed from Curaçao.”
Deep back in the serious, searching eyes Roddy thought that for an instant he detected a smile, mischievous and mocking; but as he leaned forward the eyes again grew grave and critical. With her head slightly on one side and with her hands clasped on her knee, Inez regarded him with curiosity.
“And that made no difference to you?” she asked.
“Why should it?” demanded Roddy. “A cat can look at a king; why may not I look at the most wonderful and lovely——”
In the same even tones of one asking an abstract question the girl interrupted him.
“But you must have known,” she said, “that I would not engage myself to any man unless I loved him. Or do you think that, like the women here, I would marry as I was told?”
Roddy, not at all certain into what difficulties her questions were leading him, answered with caution.
“No,” he replied doubtfully, “I didn’t exactly think that, either.”