can it be that I have done?" And when he would have said "Nothing!" again, she checked him, lifting her hand. "Wait! Let me think." She put the tips of her fingers to her forehead, and pressed them there, remaining silent for a moment or two. Then she made a sound of wonder and discovery. "Ah! It could be that!"
"It could be what?"
"Look at me," she said; and when he obeyed he saw little shadowy compressions as of a repressed amusement at the corners of her mouth, and her beautiful clear eyes were brilliant with laughter unsuccessfully hidden. "I know now," she said. "It is because Mr. Tinker and his family have been at Michelet. You are absurd enough to think I wished to go there because of that. You think I hoped they would be there. Confess it."
"Does it need to be called a confession?" Ogle asked, keeping his gloomy eyes steadily upon her. "I think you missed him by about a day. I think he told you he was going there."
At this she laughed aloud, and her laughter was genuine. "How could he tell me where he was going?"
