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Flora de Barral was silent for a while. I said:
"And next day you thought better of it."
Again she raised her eyes to mine with that peculiar expression of
informed innocence; and again her white cheeks took on the faintest tinge
of pink--the merest shadow of a blush.
"Next day," she uttered distinctly, "I didn't think. I remembered. That
was enough. I remembered what I should never have forgotten. Never. And
Captain Anthony arrived at the cottage in the evening."
"Ah yes. Captain Anthony," I murmured. And she repeated also in a
murmur, "Yes! Captain Anthony." The faint flush of warm life left her
face. I subdued my voice still more and not looking at her: "You found
him sympathetic?" I ventured.
Her long dark lashes went down a little with an air of calculated
discretion. At least so it seemed to me. And yet no one could say that
I was inimical to that girl. But there you are! Explain it as you may,
in this world the friendless, like the poor, are always a little suspect,
as if honesty and delicacy were only possible to the privileged few.


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