She was leaning back in her chair, half hidden by the curtain of the box.
“Leo!”
Sir Donald’s voice was almost sharp and startling.
“How should he—you spoke about me then?”
There was a flash of light in his pale, almost colourless eyes.
“I wondered where you had gone, and he said you would write next day.”
“That was all?”
“Why, how suspicious you are!”
She spoke banteringly.
“Suspicious! No—but Leo does not understand me very well. I was rather old when he was born, and I have never been able to be much with him. He was educated in England, and my duties of course lay abroad.”