To include Somerset in the conversation the young man turned to him and added: ‘You carry on your work at the castle con amore, no doubt?’
‘There is work I should like better,’ said Somerset.
‘Indeed?’
The frigidity of his manner seemed to set her at ease by dispersing all fear of a scene; and alternate dialogues of this sort with the gentleman in their midst were more or less continued by both Paula and Somerset till they rose from table.
In the bustle of moving out the two latter for one moment stood side by side.
‘Miss Power,’ said Somerset, in a low voice that was obscured by the rustle, ‘you have nothing more to say to me?’
‘I think there is nothing more?’ said Paula, lifting her eyes with longing reticence.
‘Then I take leave of you; and tender my best wishes that you may have a pleasant time before you!.... I set out for England to-night.’
‘With a special photographer, no doubt?’
It was the first time that she had addressed Somerset with a meaning distinctly bitter; and her remark, which had reference to the forged photograph, fell of course without its intended effect.