“I was brought up to a trade, you know,” continued Anthony.
“And you abandoned it?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“A matter of principle.”
“Oh!”
“You’re a very unusual woman,” said Anthony suddenly, turning and looking at her.
“Why?”
“You can refrain from asking questions.”
“You mean that I haven’t asked you what your trade was?”
“Just that.”
Again they walked on in silence. They were nearing the house now, passing close by the scented sweetness of the rose garden.
“You understand well enough, I dare say,” said Anthony, breaking the silence. “You know when a man’s in love with you. I don’t suppose you care a hang for me—or for any one else—but, by God, I’d like to make you care.”
“Do you think you could?” asked Virginia, in a low voice.
“Probably not, but I’d have a damned good try.”
“Are you sorry you ever met me?” she said suddenly.
“Lord no. It’s the red signal again. When I first saw you—that day in Pont Street, I knew I was up against something that was going to hurt like fun. Your face did that to me—just your face. There’s magic in you from head to foot—some women are like that, but I’ve never known a woman who had so much of it as you have. You’ll marry some one respectable and prosperous, I suppose, and I shall return to my disreputable life, but I’ll kiss you once before I go—I swear I will.”
“You can’t do it now,” said Virginia softly. “Superintendent Battle is watching us out of the library window.”
Anthony looked at her.
“You’re rather a devil, Virginia,” he said dispassionately. “But rather a dear too.”
Then he waved his hand airily to Superintendent Battle.
“Caught any criminals this morning, Battle?”
“Not as yet, Mr. Cade.”
“That sounds hopeful.”
177
