“Because I am very interested,” Roddy said, deeply in earnest.
“Lady Hornton, the wife of father’s partner, introduced us when I was staying at Fawndene Court, their place in Suffolk, about six months ago. Mr Harrison came there to dine and sleep. But Freda never fails nowadays to come to our party, and she has hosts of friends in town.”
“Where does she live?” he asked eagerly.
“At a big old house called Willowden, beyond Welwyn, on the Great North Road.”
The young man made a mental note of the address. Could it have been to that house he had been taken? If he saw it again possibly he would remember it.
“Why are you so inquisitive about her?” asked the girl.
“For several reasons,” he replied. “I was once warned against her, Elma. And I would repeat the warning to you,” he said, looking straight into the beautiful eyes of the girl he loved so deeply.
“But why?” she asked, staring at him. “Freda is an awfully good friend of mine?”
“Has she ever been down here?”
“No. We’ve always met in town.”