There was a rather unusual sound of sincerity in her voice.
“And what is it that you like in him?”
“Oh, I don’t know. He talks shocking nonsense, of course, and is down on people and things. And he’s absurdly unsophisticated at moments, though he knows the world so well. He’s not like you—not a diplomat. But I believe if he had a chance he might do something great.”
Robin felt as if the hidden woman had suddenly begun to speak. Why did she speak about Rupert Carey?
“Do you like a man to do something great?” he said.
“Oh, yes. All women do.”
“But I perpetually hear you laughing at the big people—the Premiers, the Chancellors, the Archbishops, the Generals of the world.”
“Because I’ve always known them. And really they are so often quite absurd and tiresome.”
“And—Rupert Carey?”
“Oh, he’s nothing at all, poor fellow! Still there’s something in his face that makes me think he could do an extraordinary thing if he had the chance. I saw it there to-night when he didn’t bow to me. There’s Sir Donald’s son. And what a dreadful-looking woman just behind him.”