"Well?"
"I really don't understand your question, Blake. At least, you seem to mean it for a question."
"You do know what I mean. I'm not going to ask any favours of you. I only want to know what you intend to do?"
"About what?"
"About what you saw—and heard too, I suppose?"
Grantley rose from his chair in a leisurely fashion, and stood with his back to the fire. He was looking at young Blake with a slight smile; Blake grew redder under it.
"Oh, I can't beat about the bush!" Blake went on impatiently. "You might, if you chose, tell Miss Selford what you know."
"Well?" said Grantley in his turn.
"And—and—— Oh, you see what might happen as well as I do. I—I meant to—to explain at my own time; but——"
"I shouldn't let the time come in a hurry, Blake. It'll be a very awkward quarter of an hour for both of you, and quite unnecessary."