"I was speaking of Miss Thurseley, and I think you knew it."
"Oh, I knew it."
"Anything else isn't your business at all. I never understood why the pater told you."
"There are just two decent things for you to do, Godfrey—let Mabel alone or drop Mrs. Maxon."
His own feelings, most concisely put, most trenchantly interpreted! His vague consciousness that the thing came to that was crystallized into an ultimatum. Against this he could not maintain his peevish resentment at his sister's interference or his assumed prudishness over her talking about Winnie. The pretext of shame would not serve, and his weak nature turned for help to a stronger. She was sitting by the table, rigid, looking straight before her. He sat down by her, laying his pipe on the table.
"By Jove, you're right! I'm in an awful mess. Which is it to be, Amy?"
"Oh, that's not my business. But you needn't be a sneak to both of them, need you?"
He laid his hand on hers, but she drew hers away sharply. "You don't understand how I was led into it. I say, you're not going to—to give me away to Mabel, are you?"
"No. I'm afraid of father and mother. I believe I ought to, but I daren't."
"I say, above all things, for heaven's sake, don't think of that!"