CHAPTER FOURWhen the tour of the house was over, the Marquis with Lexia on his arm descended the stairs and approached the drawing room. At about the same moment each began to slow down, as though reluctant to go any further.
“I wonder if we are thinking the same thought,” murmured the Marquis.
“They will stare at us as we enter the room,” replied Lexia.
“Yes, they will,” he agreed. “And they will speculate.”
“They will smile to themselves.”
“And each other.”
“It doesn’t matter how blank we keep our faces,” she added desperately.
“They will read into them whatever they want to.”
Just in front of the door they stopped.
“Perhaps we could quarrel,” she suggested hopefully.
He shook his head.
“They will interpret it as a lovers’ tiff. Whatever we do, they will believe what they wish
