“Yes.”
“Is he—at home?”
“No,” replied Eve. Then, as she realized what had happened, a smile broke the tragical lines of her expression.
“He asked me to lunch,” said Quiltan. “May I come in?”
“Yes, please do.”
He followed her to the shabby sitting-room.
“I’m afraid,” said Eve, “my husband won’t be back to lunch. He was telephoning to ask you to meet him at the club instead.”
“Your husband?” He looked at her in surprise. “I didn’t know Rendall was married.”
She bit her lip—it was rather an unkind stab. He noticed this, and hastened to say:
“That is, he never told me.”