“At any rate I think I do. If a face seems to have a story to tell, I like to read it. But most faces are masks to empty heads.”
She again kept silent, then stood up.
“May I come and see how you’re getting on?”
“Not yet, please—I’d rather you waited until I’ve finished; I can’t work if I’m watched.”
She wandered aimlessly about the room, her thoughts evidently intent upon something of which she desired but hesitated to speak.
“Is Alice Lane’s face a mask to an empty head?” she asked suddenly, looking at him keenly.
The question startled him, and he hesitated how he should answer it, making absorption in his work his excuse for not immediately replying.
“Miss Lane’s—eh? Oh—no, I should say she has a very decided character.”
“A strong character, you mean?”
“Ye-es—you might put it that way.”