"I do wish. But first, will you answer me a question?"
"I'm sure you wouldn't ask me a question I oughtn't to answer."
"It's only this: Did Ernest Borrow tell you anything else about me?"
"Nothing, except his opinion of you. And you must know that, by this time."
"I think I do. Or Mrs. Jones—or Mrs. East? Neither have—for any reason—advised you to apologize to me for what you very nobly felt was wrong in your conduct?"
"No. Not a soul has advised me. If they had—"
She didn't finish, but Biddy and I both knew the Monny-habit of conscientiously going against advice.
"Thank you. You've changed your opinion of me, then, without urging from outside."
"It has all come from inside. From recognition of—of what you are, and what you've done for—for us all. You've been a hero. And you've been kind as well as brave. Antoun Effendi, I think you are a very great gentleman, and I respect Egyptians for your sake."
"Wait!" said Anthony. "You haven't heard my confession. When I first saw you on the terrace at Shepheard's, I willed you to look at me, and you did look."