In asking the question her face was towards the window, and suddenly her cheeks became a rosy red. She instantly looked another way.
‘Having my own office so near, it was not necessary, thank you,’ replied Havill, as, noting her countenance, he allowed his glance to stray into the street. Somerset was walking past on the opposite side.
‘The time is—the time fixed for sending in the drawings is the first of November, I believe,’ she said confusedly; ‘and the decision will be come to by three gentlemen who are prominent members of the Institute of Architects.’
Havill then accompanied her to the carriage, and she drove away.
Havill went to the back window to tell Dare that he need not stay in the garden; but the garden was empty. The architect remained alone in his office for some time; at the end of a quarter of an hour, when the scream of a railway whistle had echoed down the still street, he beheld Somerset repassing the window in a direction from the railway, with somewhat of a sad gait. In another minute Dare entered, humming the latest air of Offenbach.
‘’Tis a mere piece of duplicity!’ said Havill.
‘What is?’
‘Her pretending indifference as to which of us comes out successful in the competition, when she colours carmine the moment Somerset passes by.’ He described Paula’s visit, and the incident.
‘It may not mean Cupid’s Entire XXX after all,’ said Dare judicially. ‘The mere suspicion that a certain man loves her would make a girl blush at his unexpected appearance. Well, she’s gone from him for a time; the better for you.’
‘He has been privileged to see her off at any rate.’