“No. He hardly dares hope. He's so terribly afraid.”
“It's the first time in his life, then.”
“I believe you, dominie. Perhaps it's the first time he's been in love, too. It's good for his soul, but it's hard on the poor man. When he came this morning for a sitting he looked more like a pale martyr in a stained-glass window than a flesh-and-blood man. I had to send him away.”
“Oh, well,” I said comfortably, “if they really care for each other, time will straighten it out.”
“It will,” she retorted. “About three days' time. The Varicks start for the Far East on Saturday.”
“Without Paula's seeing Carlo again?” I asked in dismay.
“Mr. Varick has written a note to Mr. Trent saying that it is by Paula's own wish, and that she does not want to see him again.”
“That's a lie, isn't it?” I asked.
“Probably it is. But I don't think Paula will see him. If she has promised her father, she certainly won't. Now, what are you going to do about it?” she concluded calmly, laying down her implement and fixing me with an accusing eye.
“What am I—”