“I would scorn to deceive you,” said Geoffrey with passion, and looked at her to find some answer to the reverse question which he did not put into words.
She did not appear to understand. “Then why didn’t he come?” she asked.
“He had been out in the storm already. I thought it was my turn.”
“I think you must be stronger than Billy.” She cast a reflective glance at his shoulders, and he was ashamed to find himself inordinately flattered.
“He is really safe at your house?”
“I hope so, I did my best,” he returned grimly.
She looked at him gravely. “You have been very kind to a stranger,” she said.
And at this point Geoffrey made the fatal mistake of his dealing with her. It did not occur to him that he was going to shield McVay, but he thought a more advantageous time could be found for telling her the truth, in case of course she did not know it already. He felt that he himself would be better able to deal a cold blow when she was warm and sheltered. No man, he said to himself, could be disagreeable to a girl who had no one to depend on but himself. So he said:
“He was not exactly a stranger to me. We were at school together.”
“Oh, another of Billy’s friends. I never knew such a person for discovering friends at the most opportune times. He never wants anything but what a friend turns up. Did you find him wandering about, or did he come and demand admittance?”