“Yes,” she replied quickly, with an understanding smile that revealed a white gleam between her lips. “I can see it, plain as the paper on that ceiling.”
Mauney whistled softly a snatch of an indefinite tune and made some pretence of keeping time with his heel, while he stared unhappily at the carpet.
“It’s not very nice to be me,” he said.
“It’s your predicament, boy,” she said, “I’m sure you’re able to settle it somehow or other.”
Later, when Freda had gone to her room, she was glad that her lover had a hard problem to solve. She was glad that her lover was capable of such an unusual fidelity; for her innate casuistry had been busy on the situation and had shown her that such a man would make a faithful husband.