“I did,” said Trenn, distractedly. “I gave her my opinion of what they were like—those other women she quoted who had gone. It wasn’t even news to her!”
“What! She accepted that?”
Trenn looked profoundly humiliated. Any nice girl would have pretended she couldn’t credit such a state of things, even if she’d heard them hinted. But Hildegarde had said gravely, “Yes, I know what you mean, miserable women have done it for horrible ends. It’s that that makes me ashamed to hesitate. Can’t a girl venture as much for a good end as those others for—”
“Oh, Hildegarde’s mad!” said Trenn, with a flush on his handsome face.
“Nevertheless, she’ll go,” said Harry.
“But Mrs. Mar! What’s she about?”
Cheviot went to see.
“You surely don’t mean to let her go?”
“My good man, I’d like nothing better than to go myself.”
“Then why don’t you?” demanded Cheviot rudely.