Sometimes his own reputation, far
from being a happiness, gave him cause for misgiving. A man with an
unclean record cannot well be sure that all the details he would wish
suppressed have been suppressed. There was a little pause, during which
they both watched the self-satisfied throng moving in and out, here and
there, full of a restless desire to be observed.
It was Seymour Michael who spoke first. True to his mixed blood, he
sought to make himself safe.
"Excuse me," he said, "but Edith Mazerod did not mention your name; may I
ask it?"
"Dora Glynde!"
She saw him start. She saw a sudden wavering gleam in his eyes which in
another man she would have set down to fear.
"Miss Dora Glynde," he repeated; and the expression of his face was so
serene again that the look which had passed away from it began already to
present itself to her memory as a conception of her own brain.
"When I was younger and shyer," he said, with a singular haste, "I was
afraid to ask a lady her name when I did not catch it, and--and I
frequently regretted not having had the courage to do so.
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