"I cannot understand," he said, "how you managed to get into touch with my father after all."
"I have been wondering when you would ask that, Bernard. It was all owing to the old butler, Mr. Gates. He came to 65, Bowles Avenue. It seems that you gave that address once at the Savoy Hotel in case Mr. Dacent Smith sent for you suddenly. Gates went to the Savoy to find you, to give you a message from your father, and the Savoy people gave him my address. I answered the door to Gates myself, and in the course of his inquiries about you, I told him who I was. He had never heard of me before and was very much surprised. Naturally, when he came back here, he told your father."
"I see," said John, "and my father invited you here?"
"Not only invited me, but he has been absolutely charming to me."
"I don't see anything very extraordinary in that," returned John.
"Oh, but I might have been the most horrid sort of creature. He knew nothing whatever about me."
"He only needed to look at you," John answered, "to see that--that I had made an ideal marriage."
"I have made him tell me everything about your boyhood, Bernard."
John winced. He had no wish to discuss a boyhood that was naturally a blank to him.
"I believe I know more about your schoolboy days than you do yourself," smiled Elaine.
"I shouldn't wonder," said John with a smile.
Despite himself, against caution and his better judgment, he was beginning to enjoy the scene. He was still at the dressing-table, and in the depths of the mirror he could see behind him Elaine's reflection, a delicate and beautiful picture, seated on the ottoman behind him, looking at him with admiring and loving eyes, believing in him, and trusting him.
"Bernard!" Her tone was low and intimate.
"Oh, I don't know whether I can," said John; "I've--I've got a letter to write." He was quick at inventing excuses.
"You can't care much for me, Bernard, if you bother to write a letter, after not seeing me for so long." She rose and came towards him. He felt foolish and awkward when she took his hand in hers, led him to the ottoman and seated him beside her. "Tell me what you have been doing all these long days."
"Oh, all sorts of things," John answered.
"Have you been loving me? Look into my eyes and say it, Bernard."