"Oh, sir," she wailed, "we've acted very wrongly."
"Jane-Ellen," replied Crane, "that really doesn't go. It was a good manner, and you worked it well, but it is now, if you will forgive my saying so, old stuff. I cannot look upon you as a foolishly fond sister, trying to protect an erring brother. I think it far more likely that you are the organizer of this efficient little plan to keep him here unobserved, eating my food, reading my books, and smoking, if I am not greatly mistaken, my cigarettes."
"Oh, Brin, do you take Mr. Crane's cigarettes?" said Jane-Ellen.
"Not unless I'm out of my own," said her brother.
"Without clearing his own honesty, he impugns my taste," said Crane.
It was plain that Jane-Ellen was going to make another effort to improve the situation. She was thinking hard. At last she began:
At the sight of Crane, Jane-Ellen stopped with a gesture of the utmost horror
"I don't defend what we've done, sir, but if you would have let me see you alone this afternoon, I was going to ask that Brindlebury might stay just for this one night. Only I couldn't speak before Mr. Tucker, I'm so afraid of him."
"There you go again," said Burton. "You're not telling the truth. You're not in the least afraid of Tucker."