"Shall I go up and put on my hat, Jack?" There was no interest in
her voice, no enthusiasm. This was a child doing the bidding of his
master. Devenish saw through every note of it. He
gathered--erroneously--that Traill had told her he was taking Miss
Standish-Roe to the theatre; fancied that perhaps she may have seen
or heard of the girl's undeniable prettiness, and was piqued with
jealousy. Certainly it was not for love that she was coming out to
dine with him. But that was no deterrent. He looked forward to it
all the more.
"Yes, run up and put on your hat; we can all go out together if you're
quick."
She went away quietly. They heard her mounting the stairs, but only
Devenish noticed the difference in the way she had come down and the
manner in which she returned. He also read its meaning.
"How long has she been living with you here?" he asked, when Traill
had closed the door and returned to the continuance of his dressing.
"A few months over three years."
"Of course--I remember your telling me."
They fell into silence, Devenish watching his friend with
half-conscious amusement as he clumsily tied a white tie, then shot
his arms into waistcoat and coat, one after the other, with no study
of the effect and apparently but little interest.
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