The three ate in silence. Hilda looked to see what his table manners were like. She could not help realizing that he was instinctively much more delicate and well-bred than herself. She had a certain Scottish clumsiness. And moreover, he had all the quiet self-contained assurance of the English, no loose edges. It would be very difficult to get the better of him.

But neither would he get the better of her.

“And do you really think,” she said, a little more humanly, “it’s worth the risk.”

“Is what worth what risk?”

“This escapade with my sister.”

He flickered his irritating grin.

“Yo’ maun ax ’er!”

Then he looked at Connie.