He flushed a little with the effort he made to produce even that semblance, and then as she turned away and became grave again, he decided that the time had come to speak to Hyacinthe. The waiters were placing the dessert upon the table.
"Did your mother mention to you where she was dining to-night?"
Hyacinthe's eyebrows and shoulders expressed a tendency to disclaim responsibility. "My mother? I did not see her since we arrive at the hotel. She was very tired, you know. I think perhaps she may have something to eat in her room."
"Do you?"
Hyacinthe looked up, meeting Ogle's eyes mildly, yet with what seemed to be a covert apprehension. "You think she went to some other hotel?"
"I don't know." And as it seemed apparent that if Hyacinthe knew he intended to look upon his knowledge as confidential and not to be imparted, Ogle let it go and tried something else.
"I wonder if you'd mind telling me"
"Why, no," the youth said. His eyes met Ogle's again mildly, but with a faint surprise. "What is it you like to ask me?"
