She looked oddly doubtful for a moment. Then she said:
“Mr. Craven, will you tell us the truth?”
“It depends. What about?”
“Oh, a very simple matter.”
“I’ll do my best, but all men are liars.”
“We only ask you to do your best.”
“We!” he said, with a glance at Lady Sellingworth.
“Yes—yes,” she said. “I go solid with my sex.”
“Then—what is it?”
“Do you ever go travelling—ever, without a secret hope of romance meeting you on your travels, somewhere, somehow, wonderfully, suddenly? Do you?”