She looked at him then with quick interest; she could not help it. But
the dark eyes triumphed over her so shamelessly that she veiled it on
the instant.

Piers laughed. "Mrs. Denys, may I ask a directly personal question?"

"I don't know why you should," said Avery.

They were nearing the pillar-box at the end of the Vicarage lane, and she
was firmly determined that at that box their ways should separate.

"I know you think I'm bold and bad," said Piers. "Some kind friend has
probably told you so. But I'm not. I've been brought up badly, that's
all. I think you might bear with me. I'm quite willing to be bullied."
There was actual pathos in the declaration.

Again the fleeting dimple hovered near Avery's mouth. "Please don't take
my opinion for granted in that way!" she said. "I have hardly had time to
form one yet."

"Then I may ask my question?" said Piers.

She turned steady grey eyes upon him. "Yes; you may."

Piers' face was perfectly serious. "Are you really married?" he asked.

The level brows went up a little. "I have been a widow for six years,"
said Avery very quietly.

He stared at her in surprise unfeigned. "Six years!"