“I don’t think so. He did tell extra untruths, if you know what I mean, when Jim bullied him and tried to catch him out, but as a general rule, it was just the kind of stories that he told at Squires—things he invented, you know.”
“I know.”
Lucian’s voice was rather sorrowful.
“I daresay it sounds like nonsense,” Rose said, “but often and often I’ve thought that Ces couldn’t really help himself. Aren’t some people born colour-blind, so that they can’t distinguish between colours?”
“Yes.”
“Sometimes it seems to me that Ces was born without any—any sense of honour at all.”
Lucian nodded, his grave, pitying eyes fixed upon her, and his implied acceptance of her view filled Rose with terror.
“What am I to do for him?” she cried despairingly.
“I wish I could tell you,” said Maurice Lucian very earnestly. “These tendencies can be pathologically treated, and more is being learnt about the right treatment of them every day, but even so, it’s still working in the dark——”
He broke off, as Rose made a violent gesture of impatience.