The moment he struck the last chord, she called to him in a clear, soft, cold voice: "Will you tell Mr.Redmain your name?
I happen to have forgotten it." Tom picked up his hat, rose, came forward, and, mentioning his name, held out his hand.
"I don't know you," said Mr.Redmain, touching his palm with two fingers that felt like small fishes.
"It is of no consequence," said his wife; "Mr.Aylmer is an old acquaintance of our family." "Only you don't quite remember his name!" "It is not my _friends'_ names only I have an unhappy trick of forgetting.

I often forget yours, Mr.Redmain!" "My _good_ name, you must mean." "I never heard that." Neither had raised the voice, or spoken with the least apparent anger.
Mr.Redmain gave a grin instead of a retort.

He appreciated her sharpness too much to get one ready in time.

Turning away, he left the room with a quiet, steady step, taking his grin with him: it had drawn the clear, scanty skin yet tighter on his face, and remained fixed; so that he vanished with something of the look of a hairless tiger.
The moment he disappeared, Tom's gaze, which had been fascinated, sought Hesper.

Her lips were shaping the word _brute!_--Tom heard it with his eyes; her eyes were flashing, and her face was flushed.