"Easy now—please. I guess I'm rough, but I don't mean it that way. I suppose you need a job, don't you?"
Mary considered for an instant.
"Of course," she said, with a touch of dignity, "I should not have applied for a place I did not need."
"Sure; I get you. Listen, now: You can hold this job as long as you like; you can be social secretary or any other kind—only I'm not going into society."
"Will you please explain that?"
"It's easy. So long as my aunt thinks I'm going into society—fine. So long as I stay out of it—fine. I haven't any objections to having a secretary, on that basis."
Mary shook her head.
"That would be practicing a deception on your aunt," she said.
Oh, Mary!
But what Mary had in her mind was not the drawing of a fine distinction between one deception and another. She had not forgotten that already she was a deceiver. What troubled her was this: She liked Aunt Caroline. Thus far she had done that nice old lady no harm, even though she posed as Nell Norcross. But to take Aunt Caroline's money and give nothing in return was very different. That would be stealing. And, besides, she felt that the acceptance of Bill's idea would put her in an equivocal position toward him.