She was interested, now feeling herself on the verge of discovery.

"From New York ?" "Sure, maybe you've heard of him?
He knew you as soon as Beaton mentioned your name; he's Patrick Enright of Enright and Dougherty." Miss Donovan's fingers gripped hard on the footboard of the bed, and her teeth clinched to keep back a sudden exclamation of surprise.

This was more than she had bargained for, yet the other woman, coolly watching, in spite of her apparent flippancy, observed no change in the girl's manner.

Apparently the disclosure meant little.
"Enright, you say?
No, I think not.

He claimed to know me?
That is rather strange.