“The rest of it?” Her brows were raised in dainty puzzlement, but her eyes refused to meet his.
“Where is Veyze?”
“On his way back to the East, I understand,” said Darcy carefully.
“When is he coming over?”
“Not at all.”
“Are you going over there—to England?”
“No.”
“You’re not looking me in the face.”
“I—I don’t want to look you in the face. You’re not pretty when you make a—a catechism of yourself.”
“Darcy,” said Remsen, “there’s been something queer about this Veyze business from the start. As long as I could help I did, didn’t I?”