Slow Signal Fade ebooks

"
"You mean that you have been frightened at night?" I asked with
curiosity.
"Dreadfully frightened."
"Won't you tell me in what way?"
She looked up at me swiftly, then turned her head aside, and bit her
lip.
"No, not now," she replied. "I can't very well."
"Then at least tell me why you stayed?"
"Well," she smiled rather pathetically, "for one thing, I haven't
anywhere else to go."
"Have you no friends in England?"
She shook her head.
"No. There was only poor daddy, and he died over two years ago. That
was when I went to Nice."
"Poor little girl," I said; and the words were spoken before I realized
their undue familiarity.
An apology was on the tip of my tongue, but Miss Beverley did not seem
to have noticed the indiscretion. Indeed my sympathy was sincere, and I
think she had appreciated the fact.
She looked up again with a bright smile.
"Why are we talking about such depressing things on this simply
heavenly day?" she exclaimed.
"Goodness knows," said I. "Will you show me round these lovely
gardens?"
"Delighted, sir!" replied the girl, rising and sweeping me a mocking
curtsey.


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