“That’s something,” Audrey put in, her body trembling. “I am much obliged to him.”
“But he clearly indicated that money had been paid—that he had not paid it himself—that the enterprise was not genuine. He permitted himself to sneer until I corrected him. He then withdrew what he had said and told me that I had misunderstood. But he was not convincing. It was too late. And I had not misunderstood. Far from that, I had understood. At once the truth traversed my mind like a flash of lightning. It was you who had paid.”
“And how did you guess that?” She laughed carelessly, though she could not keep her foot from shaking on the carpet.
“I knew because I knew!” cried Musa. “It explained all your conduct, your ways of speaking to me, your attitude of a schoolmistress, everything. How ingenuous I have been not to perceive it before!”
“Well,” said Audrey firmly. “You are wrong. It is absolutely untrue that I have ever paid a penny, or ever shall, to any agent on your behalf. Do you hear? Why should I, indeed! And now what have you to reply?”
She was aware of not the slightest remorse for this enormous and unqualified lie. Nay, she held it was not a lie, because Musa deserved to hear it. Strange logic, but her logic! And she was much uplifted and enfevered, and grandly careless of all consequences.
“You are a woman,” said Musa curtly and obstinately.
“That, at any rate, is true.”
“Therefore I cannot treat you as a man.”
“Please do,” she said, rising.