“As guide, philosopher, and friend,” he said. “Let us get out of the way of these people. There are the Kennets bearing down upon us.”
They found a garden seat in a secluded corner under a tree, and sat down. Mrs. Monteith laid her gloved fingers on his arm.
“Don't tell me it's about a woman, please.”
“How did you know it's about a woman?”
“My dear boy, you wouldn't drag me to this sequestered wilderness if it were about a man! Of course it's a woman. You have it written all over your face. Well?”
“If you are not sympathetic I shan't tell you.”
“Oh, Raine!”
She moved a little nearer to him, and settled her skirts. When a woman settles her skirts by a man's side it impresses him with a sense of confidential relations.
“Nora,” he said, “when a man doesn't know whether he is in love or not, what is the best thing he can do?”
“The best thing is to make up his mind that he isn't. The next best is to find out.”