He shook his head, laughing.
"I'd have given all I had to know; but, of course, I could not ask the servants!"
Surprise, disappointment, hurt pride that he had had no desire to know gave quick place to a comprehension that set a little thrill tingling her from head to foot. His restraint was the nicest homage ever rendered her; she saw that instantly; and the straight look she gave him out of her clear eyes took his breath away for a second.
"Do you remember Sacharissa?" she asked.
"I do--certainly! I always thought----"
"What?" she said, smiling.
He muttered something about eyes and white skin and a trick of the heavy lids.
She was perfectly at ease now; she leaned back in her chair, studying him calmly.
"Suppose," she said, "people could see me here now."
"It would end your artistic career," he replied, laughing; "and fancy! I took you for the sort that painted for a bare existence!"