She looked at him musingly. "Do you prefer to think it was or was not?"
she asked.
"Are you going to answer accordingly?"
"Not at all. I was wondering which I wanted to think myself. I wish I
had been with you. I should have known."
"Would you?" King spoke eagerly. "Would you mind telling me how?"
"I can't tell you how. Of course I came to know her looks much better
than you; it really isn't strange that after seeing her only twice you
couldn't be sure. I don't think any change of dress or environment could
have hidden her from me. The question is, of course, why--if it was
she--she should have chosen not to seem to know you--unless--"
"Yes--"
She looked straight at him. "Unless--she is not the poor girl she seemed
to be. And that explanation doesn't appeal to me. I have known of poor
girls pretending to be rich, but I have never, outside of a sensational
novel, known a rich girl to pretend to be poor, unless for a visit to a
poor quarter for charitable purposes. What possible object could there
be in a girl's going about selling books unless she needed to do it? And
she allowed me--" She stopped, shaking her head. "No, Jordan, that was
not our little friend--or if it was, she was in that car by some curious
chance, not because she belonged there."
"So you're going on trusting her?" was King's abstract of these
reflections. He scanned her closely.
She nodded. "Until I have stronger proof to the contrary than your
looking into a pair of beautiful eyes.
Pages:
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135