"Not at all. Have a seat. Miss Omar, sit down, won't you?" I
sat down.

"Miss Omar reads to me, Mr. Moriway. I'm an invalid, as you see,
dependent on the good offices of my man. I find a woman's voice a
soothing change."

"It must be. Particularly if the voice is pleasing. Miss Omar--I
didn't quite catch the name--"

He waited. But Miss Omar had nothing to say that minute.

"Yes, that's the name. You've got it all right," said Latimer.
"An uncommon name, isn't it?"

"I don't think I ever heard it before. Do you know, Miss Omar,
as I heard your voice just before we got to the gate, it sounded
singularly boyish to me."

"Mr. Latimer does not find it so--do you?" I said as sweet--as
sweet as I could coax. How sweet's that, Tom Dorgan?

"Not at all." A little laugh came from Latimer as though he was
enjoying a joke all by himself. But Moriway jumped with
satisfaction. He knew the voice all right.

"Have you a brother, may I ask?" He leaned over and looked
keenly at me.