"I will take you over it myself, if you care to accept my guidance," she
said, "after the crowd have gone."
He glanced at his watch.
"And you are prepared to tolerate my society till six?" he said. "That
is very generous of you."
She smiled, with a touch of wistfulness.
"Perhaps I don't find my own very inspiring."
He raised his eyebrows, but made no comment.
"Perhaps I had better tell you my name," he said, after a pause. "I am
in a fashion connected with this place--a sort of friend of the family,
if it isn't presumption to put it that way. My name is Julian Carfax,
and Ralph Cochrane, the next-of-kin, is a pal of mine, a very great pal.
He was coming over to England. Perhaps you heard. But he's a very shy
fellow, and almost at the last moment he decided not to face it at
present. I was coming over, so I undertook to explain. I spoke to Lady
Raffold in town over the telephone, and told her. She seemed to be
rather affronted, for some reason. Possibly it was my fault. I'm not
much of a diplomatist, anyway."
He seated himself on a mossy stone below her with this reflection, and
began to cast pebbles into the brown water.
Priscilla watched him gravely. What he had told her interested her
considerably, but she had no intention of giving herself away by
betraying it.
There was a decided pause before she made up her mind how to pursue the
subject.
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