He took up the bottle.
“You see how little good your interference has done in this instance,” he said, “and it will do as little in any other. You will merely oblige me to adopt methods as underhand as your own.”
“There was nothing underhand,” said Catherine. “We were going to tell you what we had done. Indeed, Maud did tell you.”
“I should have said that stealing was underhand,” said he very evilly, “though perhaps you think differently. As to your telling me, you knew it was inevitable that I should find out.”
“That has nothing to do with it,” said Maud quickly. “Even if you could never have found out otherwise, we should have told you.”
“Ah!” said he.
Maud looked at him in amazement. She had been told by Catherine this afternoon that there were two Mauds, and here indeed was a Thurso whom she would scarcely have known for her brother. His manner was quite quiet and courteous again now, but it seemed as if he was possessed. There was a world of sneering incredulity in that one word.
“You don’t believe what I say?” she asked.
He was silent; he smiled a little, and raised his eyebrows. There was no need for him to speak; he could not have shouted his meaning nearly so clearly.
“Then where is the use of our giving you any promise for the future, if you don’t believe what we say?” she asked.