Lorna Carson was quiet, probably from sheer lack of opportunity to speak, but her pale face was interesting and her dark eyes met Irene's with a curious questioning glance.

It was almost as if she were asking "Have we known each other before ?" Irene could not help looking at her, and ransacking the side cupboards of her memory to try to light upon some forgotten clew as to why the face should seem half familiar.
"Have I seen her in London?
Or is she like some one else?
No, I can't fix her at all.

Surely I must have dreamed about her," mused Irene, while aloud she said, almost as if compelled to speak: "Have you been long at school here?
Are you English, or American, or colonial, or what ?" "A little bit of anything you like," smiled Lorna.

"Rachel gets very muddled about me.

I've such a sneaking weakness for Naples that I believe she thinks I'm an Italian at heart.