— VII —DORIS INTERVIEWS SIR PHILIP
Sir Philip greeted her as if he were unconscious of there being anything singular in her deportment.
“Good-morning, Miss Owen. Is the headache better? Enjoyed your walk?”
The young lady, deaf to his polite inquiries, answered him with the air of a tragedy queen.
“Sir Philip Ford, I have to beg your pardon.”
“Have you? Then it’s granted.”
His easy lightness seemed to take her aback, she being in no mood for lightness.
“But I haven’t told you for what I have to beg your pardon.”
“Haven’t you? Then I shouldn’t. If I were you I shouldn’t worry about trifles, especially in the morning.”
“If you don’t mind I would rather tell you why I wish to beg your pardon. It is because I was so rude to you last night.”
“Were you rude to me? I was not aware of it.
