Harleston did not reply.
"But very little--two or three years, maybe?" she added.
Again Harleston did not reply.
"Is her conversation more entertaining?" she resumed.
"Impossible!"
"Or more edifying?"
"Excuse me again!" he exclaimed. "Edifying is in the same class as
intellectual."
"Then all Mrs. Clephane has on me is a few years?"
He nodded.
"Other things don't count with you, I assume--when they're of the past,
and both have been a trifle tinctured."
She said it with affected carelessness and a ravishing smile; but
Harleston was aware that underneath there was bitterness of spirit, and
cold hate of the other woman. She had touched the pinch of the matter.
Both knew it, and both knew the answer. Yet she was hoping against hope;
and he was loath to hurt her needlessly, because Mrs. Clephane would be
sure to catch the recoil, and because he himself was very fond of
her--despite all and Mrs. Clephane. He had seen his mistake in time, if
it was a mistake, but that did not blind him to Madeline Spencer's
fascinating manner and beautiful person, and to the fact that she cared
for him. However, neither might he let pass the charge she had just made
against Mrs. Clephane. Yet he tried to be kind to the woman beside him,
while defending the woman who was absent, and, as is often the case
under such circumstances he played for time--the hotel was but a block
away--and made a mess of it, so far as the woman beside him was
concerned.
Pages:
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206