It had been an interesting talk, but now and then the duke had wondered if, as it went on, his companion was as wholly at his ease as was usual with him. An occasional shade of absorption in his expression, as if he were thinking of two things at once despite himself, a hint of restlessness, revealed themselves occasionally. Was there something more he was speculating on the possibility of saying, something more to tell or explain? If there was, let him take his time. His audience, at all events, was possessed of perceptions. This somewhat abrupt exclamation might open the way. “That is easily understood, my dear fellow,” replied the duke. “There's times when you want a little thing like that just to talk things over with, just to ask, because you--you're dead sure she'd never lose her head and give herself away without knowing she was doing it. She could just keep still and let the waves roll over her and be standing there ready and quiet when the tide had passed. It's the keeping your mouth shut that's so hard for most people, the not saying a darned thing, whatever happens, till just the right time.” “Women cannot often do it,” said the duke. “Very few men can.” “You're right,” Tembarom answered, and there was a trifle of anxiety in his tone. “There's women, just the best kind, that you daren't tell a big thing to. Not that they'd mean to give it away--perhaps they wouldn't know when they did it--but they'd feel so anxious they'd get--they'd get--” “Rattled,” put in the duke, and knew who he was thinking of. He saw Miss Alicia's delicate, timid face as he spoke. T. Tembarom laughed. “That's just it,” he answered. “They wouldn't go back on you for worlds, but--well, you have to be careful with them.” “He's got something on his mind,” mentally commented the duke. “He wonders if he will tell it to me.” “And there's times when you'd give half you've got to be able to talk a thing out and put it up to some one else for a while. I could do it with her. That's why I said I wish to God that she was here.” “You have learned to know how to keep still,” the duke said. “So have I. We learned it in different schools, but we have both learned.” As he was saying the words, he thought he was going to hear something; when he had finished saying them he knew that he would without a doubt. T. Tembarom made a quick move in his seat; he lost a shade of color and cleared his throat as he bent forward, casting a glance at the backs of the coachman and footman on the high seat above them. “Can those fellows hear me?” he asked. “No,” the duke answered; “if you speak as you are speaking now.”