“Mrs. Ilam wants you to explain why you have been helping Mr. Jetsam,” said Carpentaria, as she entered.
“Helping him in what?” Rosie parleyed timidly.
“In his plans——”
“Against me,” Ilam added.
“I only helped him in his plans for justice,” said Rosie.
“But why?”
“Because I was sorry for him. Because there is something in his tone—because—oh! if he has told you all, are you not all sorry for him? When I think of what his life has been——”
She stopped and burst into tears.
“But my hair is grey,” murmured Jetsam. “How can you possibly be interested in me? What does it matter what happens to me? My life is over.”
“No it isn’t!” Rosie protested. “It hasn’t yet begun. It is just beginning. Mrs. Ilam and Cousin Ilam will be just to you. You will not bear them ill-will. The wrong is too old for that. You will forget it. You will forget all the past. Your hair may be grey, but I’m sure your heart isn’t. And your voice can influence even the Soudanese. The way that man obeyed you! The way he got the better of his brother just to please you! It seems strange, but I can understand it, because I have——”