“Well,” said Mrs. Peniston, “what I complain of is that you haven’t told me yet what IS being said.”
“I didn’t suppose I should have to put it so plainly. People say that Gus Trenor pays her bills.”
“Pays her bills—her bills?” Mrs. Peniston broke into a laugh. “I can’t imagine where you can have picked up such rubbish. Lily has her own income—and I provide for her very handsomely—”
“Oh, we all know that,” interposed Miss Stepney drily. “But Lily wears a great many smart gowns—”
“I like her to be well-dressed—it’s only suitable!”
“Certainly; but then there are her gambling debts besides.”
Miss Stepney, in the beginning, had not meant to bring up this point; but Mrs. Peniston had only her own incredulity to blame. She was like the stiff-necked unbelievers of Scripture, who must be annihilated to be convinced.
“Gambling debts? Lily?” Mrs. Peniston’s voice shook with anger and bewilderment. She wondered whether Grace Stepney had gone out of her mind. “What do you mean by her gambling debts?”
“Simply that if one plays bridge for money in Lily’s set one is liable to lose a great deal—and I don’t suppose Lily always wins.”
“Who told you that my niece played cards for money?”