“You have come to understand each other remarkably well in quite a few days.”
“Perhaps we have,” admitted the girl. “But if you object you have a simple remedy.”
“What is that?”
“You say he is a thief and almost a murderer. You say that I am his accomplice; we are criminals therefore. Bring us to justice. Have the entire affair thrashed out, Cousin Ilam.”
“You know that I cannot do that,” said Ilam.
“I am well aware that you dare not,” said Rosie. “The scandal would be intolerable. Think of Pauline’s feelings.”
“But suppose Pauline, too, is in the conspiracy?”
“There would always be the scandal. It would ruin the City.”
“It is neither the scandal nor the City that you are thinking of, Cousin Ilam,” said Rosie. “It is merely yourself or your mother. If it is your mother, well and good.”
Ilam retired a couple of paces, uncertain what to say in reply, and possibly fearing some attack from Mr. Jetsam, who stood behind him. There was a silence, and then Ilam murmured: