It had amused him immensely as he realised the subtle change; and it pleased him, too, because no man of thirty-five cares to be treated en grandpère by a girl of nineteen, even if she has not yet worn the polish from her first pair of high-heeled shoes.
"It's astonishing," he said, "how little respect infirmity and age command in these days."
"I do respect you," she insisted, "especially your infirmity of purpose. You said you were going to ride by yourself. But, do you know, I don't believe you are of a particularly solitary disposition; are you?"
He laughed at first, then suddenly his face fell.
"Not from choice," he said, under his breath. Her quick ear heard, and she turned, semi-serious, questioning him with raised eyebrows.
"Nothing; I was just muttering. I've a villainous habit of muttering mushy nothings—"
"You did say something!"
"No; only ghoulish gabble; the mere murky mouthings of a meagre mind."
"You did. It's rude not to repeat it when I ask you."
"I didn't mean to be rude."