Eleanor understood impulse, emotion, but she would not listen to reason. The mere mention of Madam's name stirred up a whirlwind that snuffed out any love-lights that might have been kindling. She stood with her back to the table, twisting Harold Phipps's card in her fingers, and she looked at Quin suspiciously.
"Did grandmother send you up here to see if I was keeping my word?"
"She did not. She doesn't know I am here."
"Then it's just you who don't trust me?"
"Well, I don't think you are playing quite fair," admitted Quin bluntly, "either to Queen Vic or to me."
"And I suppose you propose to go back and tell her so?"
"I propose nothing of the kind. It's up to you whether we both keep our word, or whether we both break it. You know what I think, and you see the position I am in."
"I can settle that," said Eleanor with spirit. "I can write home to-night and tell them what I intend to do. That will exonerate you, if that is what you are after."
"It isn't what I am after, and you know it! For God's sake, Miss Nell, be fair! You know you can't go on with this thing without starting up the old trouble with Mr. Phipps."
"But, I tell you, I can. I can control the situation perfectly. Why can't you trust me, Quin?"