âIâve been out.â
She kept her shoulder turned to Corinna Lee.
âCome and have tea with me,â she said.
He thought she must have heard Corinnaâs invitation.
He said, âThank youâIâm afraid I canât.â And then, âThis is a friend of PeterâsâMiss Lee. Miss Leeâââ He hesitated for a moment. Fayâs shoulder was a barrier. âMiss Fay Everitt.â
And then he had a doubt. Fay called herself Miss Everitt. She had never called herself Mrs. Lymington. But all the sameââ
If she acknowledged his introduction at all, it was with the very slightest movement of her head. She neither turned towards Corinna Lee nor looked at her. She looked at Car, and standing on the bottom step, opened her scarlet bag and extracted from it mirror and lipstick.
âCome and have tea with me, Car.â
âIâm afraid Iâm engaged.â
She transferred her attention to the mirror, ran the lipstick over the painted curves of her mouth, and then very deliberately looked him up and down. Without a spoken word Car understood just how shabby he looked, and how impossible as an escort except by the indulgence of old friendship. Mirror and lipstick went back into the bag. Fay passed carelessly out. The tapping of her heels died away.
â Well !â said Miss Corinna Lee.
Car did not know what to say. Fay wanted shaking. If this pretty creature was a friend of Peterâs, things were going to be awkward. If they were great friends, she probably knew about Peterâs marriage. Perhaps he ought to have introduced Fay as Mrs. Lymington. He had never been able to see why there should be any secrecy. Well, it wasnât his business.
By the time he reached this conclusion he was walking down the street with Miss Lee, and she was telling him how polite English railway porters were (was there a spice of malice here?) and how surprised she was to see London bathed in sunshine and with a blue sky overhead.
âI thought there would be a fog. Now youâre not going to tell me that London fogs are a myth?â
âWe have them.â
âNow thatâs a great relief! Will there be one tomorrow?â
âI donât know. I hope not.â
âYou hope not. But I want to see a fog!â
Car laughed at her.
âDo you get everything you want?â
She looked as if she did. There was something of the unspoilt darling child about her. She looked as if she had sunshine and love always. Perhaps she wanted a fog for a change.
âMost of the time,â she said, and cocked her chin at him. âIâve wanted to meet you.â
âThatâs very nice of you.â
She went on as if he had not spoken.
âBecause of Peterâand because of your name.â
âFairfax?â
She shook her head.
âIâd have liked it to be the Fairfax part of your name, because thatâs romantic and historical, but I canât tell a lie any more than Washington could. It would be a pity if I hurt myself trying toâwouldnât it?â
âRather!â
She looked at him with just a shade of anxiety in the round gray eyes.
âI guess I sound real crazy. But Iâm notâIâm trying to break it to you that Iâm a cousin.â
âIt would have to be broken very gently.â
âIâm being as gentle as I can. You wonât fall right down in a faint, will you?â
âIâll do my best.â
She stopped at a street corner and looked up at him.
âWell then, your nameâs Carthew, and it was your motherâs nameâwasnât it?â
Car nodded.
âAnd she came from a place called Linwood?â
âShe did.â
âAnd so did my grandmother,â said Corinna. Her eyes, her face, her voice all held a sort of quivering blend of earnestness and mischief.
âHow topping!â said Car.
âIâm glad Peter didnât tell
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