Lydia answered, with a contemptuous raising of her chin, "She confessed—she always was a goose."
"That didn't prove it," returned Miss Bennett with spirit. "It was the wisest thing to do. The district attorney—my dear girls, if I were your age, and that man——"
"Look out!" said Lydia. "He's a great friend of Eleanor's."
"Of Eleanor?" exclaimed Miss Bennett. She was not and never had been a vain woman, but she was always astonished at men caring for a type of femininity different from her own. She liked Eleanor, but she thought her dry and unattractive, and she didn't see what a brilliant, handsome creature like O'Bannon could see in her. "Is he, really?"
"Yes, he is," said Eleanor coolly. Experience had taught her an excellent manner in this situation.
"I wish you had waited, Lydia," Miss Bennett went on. "It was very impressive the way he managed Evans, almost like a hypnotic influence. She told him everything. She seemed to give herself over into his hands. It was almost like a miracle. A moment before she had been so hostile—a miracle taking place right there in Lydia's bedroom."
Lydia, who had been bending over reorganizing the fire, suddenly straightened up with the poker in her hand and said quickly, "Where? Taking place where?"
"In your room, dear. Evans was shut up there."
"That man in my room!" said Lydia, and her whole face seemed to blaze with anger.
"It never occurred to me that you would object, my dear. He said he——"