Page:The Fruit of the Tree (Wharton 1907).djvu/173

Rh was as knowing as the devil did, once in a way, indulge himself in the luxury of talking recklessly to a girl with exceptional eyes, it was rather upsetting to discover in those eyes no consciousness of the risk he had taken!

“But I am rather tired of it now,” she continued, and his look grew guarded again. After all, they were all the same—except in that particular matter of the eyes. At the thought, he risked another look, hung on the sharp edge of betrayal, and was snatched back, not by the manly instinct of self—preservation, but by some imp of mockery lurking in the depths that lured him.

He recovered his balance and took refuge in a tone of worldly ease. “I saw a chap the other day who said he knew you when you were at Saint Elizabeth’s—wasn’t that the name of your hospital?”

Justine assented. “One of the doctors, I suppose. Where did you meet him?”

Ah, now she should see! He summoned his utmost carelessness of tone. “Down on Long Island last week—I was spending Sunday with the Amhersts.” He held up the glittering fact to her, and watched for the least little blink of awe; but her lids never trembled. It was a confession of social blindness which painfully negatived Mrs. Dressel’s hint that she knew the Amhersts; if she had even known of them, she could not so fatally have missed his point. [ 157 ]