"Perhaps that's why you liked it so much? Fancy your being fourteen years older than me!"
"Perhaps." The last half of Miss Arkroyd's remark had to go without answer. It was too parenthetical to call for one.
Experience teaches us that there is no meshwork of circumstance into which flatter conversation may weave itself than the combination of a married man, a young woman, and a walk out on a fine afternoon, of set purpose. At least, that was the text of a literary reflection of Mr. Challis at this juncture. He put it away in a mental storehouse for his next book. Its truth or falsehood is immaterial at present.
Judith made no mental note of what her experience taught; but she knew she couldn't stand being bored and she felt it coming. She had made up her mind to have an amusing walk with this popular favourite. And Sibyl might say what she liked, but she wouldn't be balked!
A sense of intended impertinence may have heightened her colour slightly, as she stopped and turned the fine eyes full on to her companion. He stopped, too, looking round.
"Mr. Challis, I want you to tell me something.... No!—don't promise till you know what it is...."
"I am sure, Miss Arkroyd, you will ask me nothing I should hesitate to tell you...."
"Don't be too confident ... it's very impertinent!"
"All right—go on! I'll forgive you."
"Is 'Ziz' in the 'Spendthrift's Legacy' Mrs. Challis?"