At any rate a look
of quick intelligence shone for a moment in her light eyes, like a
sickly sunbeam on a faint December mist; then she moved forward, and
when she was close behind Geoffrey, spoke suddenly.
"What are you both thinking about?" she said in her clear thin voice;
"you seem to have exhausted your conversation."
Geoffrey made an exclamation and fairly jumped from his chair, a feat
which in his bruised condition really hurt him very much. Beatrice too
started violently; she recovered herself almost instantly, however.
"How quietly you move, Elizabeth," she said.
"Not more quietly than you sit, Beatrice. I have been wondering when
anybody was going to say anything, or if you were both asleep."
For her part Beatrice speculated how long her sister had been in the
room. Their conversation had been innocent enough, but it was not one
that she would wish Elizabeth to have overheard. And somehow Elizabeth
had a knack of overhearing things.
"You see, Miss Granger," said Geoffrey coming to the rescue, "both our
brains are still rather waterlogged, and that does not tend to a flow of
ideas.
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