“Well, I do, then: you’re afraid that, if Ellie and Nelson meet here, she’ll blurt out something—injudicious.”
“Oh, she won’t!” Susy cried with conviction.
“Well, then—who will! I trust that superhuman child not to. And you and I and Nick—”
“Oh,” she gasped, interrupting him, “that’s just it. Nick doesn’t know... doesn’t even suspect. And if he did....”
Strefford flung away his cigar and turned to scrutinize her. “I don’t see—hanged if I do. What business is it of any of us, after all?”
That, of course, was the old view that cloaked connivance in an air of decency. But to Susy it no longer carried conviction, and she hesitated.
“If Nick should find out that I know....”
“Good Lord—doesn’t he know that you know? After all, I suppose it’s not the first time—”
She remained silent.
“The first time you’ve received confidences—from married friends. Does Nick suppose you’ve lived even to your tender age without... Hang it, what’s come over you, child?”