"Perhaps she only has it when she looks at me. Mother, you don't think"
"I don't think what?"
Claire had paused, gazing out of the window dreamily; and her mother repeated the question.
"What is it I don't think?"
"You don't think that sometimes—they avoid us?"
"Good gracious!" Mrs. Ambler exclaimed, highly amused. "They don't get much chance! You've taken pretty good care of that, I must say! We go to the refectory when they do; we come out to the corridor when they do; we go out to the garden with them; we're everywhere that they are, at the same hour and in the same place. If we were a house party of four we couldn't well see more of them, and so how could they avoid us, even if they did want to, poor things!"
"Yes; but that's the point: Do you think they want to?"
"I haven't seen any sign of it. They're always cordial and he's always interesting. Where'd you get the idea?"
Claire shook her head. "I don't know, unless it's that troubled expression she has when she looks at me. Once or twice I've thought she wanted to speak
