lied simply.

"Anyhow, it's not the occasion I mean. I've seen you somewhere else,
in different circumstances ... not that it matters a damn, but..."

"But it makes conversation," she finished the sentence for him,
laughing.

"If you hadn't that thing on your head, now," he suggested seriously,
"I might be able to recall where it was."

With a quick gesture she whipped off her white coif. Her bronze hair
ruffled up all over her head in a shining crop of short curls. She put
up her hands to tidy the mass, enduring his exploring gaze with a
twinkle in her eyes, perfectly sure the alteration in her appearance
would not help him, since on that other occasion she had worn a hat.
After a close scrutiny he slowly shook his head.

"I can't get it," he admitted reluctantly. "But I shall one day."

"Let me know when you do," she bade him with irony.

"I will."

Still he did not move, and his shallow eyes held her. Into them had
crept what she knew to be admiration, though of a lazy and indifferent
sort. Without knowing why, for the second time that day--or was it the
third?--she felt the blood rise in a wave to her cheeks. How silly,
this facile blushing! She was angry with herself. It was not as if
she were really embarrassed or confused, it came simply from that kind
of physical sensitiveness which causes the closing of leaves in those
plants we call "touch-me-not."

At this precise instant Roger, ready for dinner, came out on to the
landing. What he saw was the young nurse, her head uncovered and
blushing as she had that morning blushed for him, her eyes upraised
with a provocative sparkle in them, standing close to Holliday, who was
staring at her with unnecessary intentness, a grudging smile just
beginning to stir the corners of his mouth.

Involuntarily Roger halted, conscious of an acute displeasure at the
sight before him, a feeling compounded of resentment towards Holliday,
whom he regarded as a puppy, and a sort of hurt disappointment in the
girl. Was she, too, one of the many women who fell victims to Arthur's
charm? He had thought better of her.

Whatever the situation, his appearance put an end to it. He saw the
nurse's slender, capable fingers replace the cap, watched her smooth
the tendrils of her hair at the sides. She was demure once more,
utterly seemly, and the sly glance she shot him conveyed the hint that
she might, perhaps, admit him into the joke. He felt inclined to
modify his