You have heard that she is a clairvoyant, I daresay." He made the last remark quite carelessly, as though he attached no importance to the fact.
"Then you do not know whether she loves him ?" Keyork indulged himself with a little discreet laughter, deep and musical.
"Love is a very vague word," he said presently.
"Is it ?" Beatrice asked, with some coldness.
"To me, at least," Keyork hastened to say, as though somewhat confused.
"But, of course, I can know very little about it in myself, and nothing about it in others." Not knowing how matters might turn out, he was willing to leave Beatrice with a suspicion of the truth, while denying all knowledge of it.
"You know him yourself, of course," Beatrice suggested.
"I have known him for years--oh, yes, for him, I can answer.

He was not in the least in love." "I did not ask that question," said Beatrice rather haughtily.

"I knew he was not." "Of course, of course.

I beg your pardon!" Keyork was learning more from her than she from him.

It was true that she took no trouble to conceal her interest in the Wanderer and his doings.
"Are you sure that he has left the city ?" Beatrice asked.
"No, I am not positive.