"Doesn't she want to see a poor devil?"
She looked about under the vibration of the way he described himself,
and her eyes rested on the door of the room he had previously occupied.
"Is Mrs. Beale in there?"
Sir Claude looked blankly at the same object. "I haven't the least
idea!"
"You haven't seen her?"
"Not the tip of her nose."
Maisie thought: there settled on her, in the light of his beautiful
smiling eyes, the faintest purest coldest conviction that he wasn't
telling the truth. "She hasn't welcomed you?"
"Not by a single sign."
"Then where is she?"
Sir Claude laughed; he seemed both amused and surprised at the point
she made of it. "I give it up!"
"Doesn't she know you've come?"