He watched her open her purse and take out a yellow slip, which she handed to him.
"Don't take the step planned. Imperative reasons forbid. Rose."
he read slowly; then he looked up. "Well?" he said.
"What does she mean?" burst forth Eleanor. "How dared she send me a message like that unless she knew something——"
She broke off abruptly and her eyes searched Quin's face. But he was apparently counting the grains of sugar that were going into his coffee, and refused to look up.
"If it had been grandmother or Aunt Isobel I shouldn't have been in the least surprised; they are just a bunch of prejudices and believe every idle story they hear. But Rose is different. She's known about Harold and me for months. She forwarded his letters to me when I was in Baltimore. And now for her to turn against me like this——"
"Why don't you wait till you hear her side of it?" suggested Quin, still concerned with the sugar-bowl.
"How can I?" cried Eleanor, flinging out her hands. "I've no place to go, and I've no money. If I had had money enough I'd have gone straight to Papa Claude last night."
Quin's heart gained a beat. He made a hurried calculation of his financial resources in the vain hope that that might yet be the solution of the difficulty. Whatever was to be done must be done at once, for Harold Phipps might arrive at any moment, and Quin felt instinctively that his advent would decide the matter.
"I wish I had enough to send you," he said, "but all I've got is my return ticket and enough to buy another one for you."