"Honora?" he said.
She did not answer.
"Raise the veil, just for a moment, and look at me."
She shook her head. But for some reason, best known to herself, she smiled a little. Perhaps it was because her indignation, which would have frightened many men into repentance, left this one undismayed. At any rate, he caught the gleam of the smile through the film of her veil, and laughed.
"We'll have a little table in the corner of the room," he declared, "and you shall order the dinner. Here we are," he cried to the chauffeur. "Pull up to the right."
They alighted, crossed the sidewalk, the doors were flung open to receive them, and they entered the hotel.
Through the entrance to the restaurant Honora caught sight of the red glow of candles upon the white tables, and heard the hum of voices. In the hall, people were talking and laughing in groups, and it came as a distinct surprise to her that their arrival seemed to occasion no remark. At the moment of getting out of the automobile, her courage had almost failed her.
Trixton Brent hailed one of the hotel servants.
"Show Mrs. Spence to the ladies' parlour," said he. And added to Honora,
"I'll get a table, and have the dinner card brought up in a few moments."
Honora stopped the boy at the elevator door.