"I counted on--on showing you the dales----"
Mrs. Borisoff nodded twice or thrice, and laughed, then pointed to
the prospect through the window.
"This is more interesting. Imagine historians living a thousand
years hence--what would they give to see what we see now!"
"Oh, one often has that thought. It's about the best way of making
ordinary life endurable."
They watched the steamers and barges, silent for a minute or two.
"So you had rather I didn't give up the castle?"
"I should be horribly disappointed."
"Yes--no doubt you would. Why did you come to see me to-day? No,
no, no! The real reason.
"I wanted to talk about Miss Derwent," Piers answered, bracing
himself to frankness.
Mrs. Borisoff's lips contracted, in something which was not quite a
smile, but which became a smile before she spoke.
"If you hadn't told the truth, Mr. Otway, I would have sent you
about your business. Well, talk of her; I am ready."
"But certainly not if it wearies you----"
"Talk! talk!"
"I'll begin with a question. Does Miss Derwent go much into
society?"
"No; not very much. And it's only the last few months that she has
been seen at all in London--I mean, since the affair that people
talked about."
"Did they talk--disagreeably?"
"Gossip--chatter--half malicious without malicious intention--
don't you know the way of the sweet creatures? I would tell you more
if I could.
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