He has only been dead six months, you know.

He died in Russia." All the while she was watching his face.

She had moved in a circle where everything is known--where men have faces of iron and nerves of steel to conceal what they know.

She could hardly believe that Paul Alexis knew so little as he pretended.
"So I heard a month ago," he said.
In a flash of thought Etta remembered that it was only within the last four weeks that this admirer had betrayed his admiration.

Could this be that phenomenon of the three-volume novel, an honorable man?
She looked at him with curiosity--without, it is to be feared, much respect.
"And now," she said cheerfully, "let us change the subject.