"I am
considered eccentric, but quite incapable of anything serious. I don't
think you need be afraid. There really isn't the smallest danger of my
being discovered, and even if I were, I could tell the truth, you know.
People always believe what I say."
She smiled involuntarily at his simplicity, but she shook her head.
"It really wouldn't do," she said.
"What! More obstacles?" he asked.
"Yes, one--the greatest of all, in my opinion." She got up and moved
across the room, he pivoting slowly round to watch her.
She came to a stand by her writing-table, and began to turn over a
packet of letters that lay there. She did it mechanically, with hands
that shook a little. Her face was turned away from him.
He waited for a few seconds; then, as she still remained silent, he
spoke.
"What is this last obstacle, Mrs. Denvers?"
She answered him with her head bent, her fingers still fluttering the
papers before her.
"You," she said, in a low voice. "You yourself."
"Me!" said Lord Ronald, in evident astonishment.
She nodded without speaking.
"But--I'm sorry," he said pathetically, "I'm afraid I don't quite follow
you. I am not famed for my wits, as you know."
She laughed at that, unexpectedly and quite involuntarily; and though
she was instantly serious again the laugh served to clear away some of
her embarrassment.
"Oh, but you are absurd," she said, "to talk like that.
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