The next instant brought a recoil of pride. She turned indignantly on her step-son.
“I don’t half understand what you’ve been saying; but what you seem to hint is so preposterous, and so insulting both to Sophy and to me, that I see no reason why we should listen to you any longer.”
Though her tone steadied Owen, she perceived at once that it would not deflect him from his purpose. He spoke less vehemently, but with all the more precision.
“How can it be preposterous, since it’s true? Or insulting, since I don’t know, any more than you, the meaning of what I’ve been seeing? If you’ll be patient with me I’ll try to put it quietly. What I mean is that Sophy has completely changed since she met Darrow here, and that, having noticed the change, I’m hardly to blame for having tried to find out its cause.”
Anna made an effort to answer him with the same composure. “You’re to blame, at any rate, for so recklessly assuming that you have found it out. You seem to forget that, till they met here, Sophy and Mr. Darrow hardly knew each other.”
“If so, it’s all the stranger that they’ve been so often closeted together!”
“Owen, Owen—” the girl sighed out.
He turned his haggard face to her. “Can I help it, if I’ve seen and known what I wasn’t meant to? For God’s sake give me a reason—any reason I can decently make out with! Is it my fault if, the day after you arrived, when I came back late through the garden, the curtains of the study hadn’t been drawn, and I saw you there alone with Darrow?”
Anna laughed impatiently. “Really, Owen, if you make it a grievance that two people who are staying in the same house should be seen talking together——!”
“They were not talking. That’s the point——”