She drew back as soon as she saw him, but Stonor had looked round. His face darkened as he stood there an instant, silently challenging her. Not a word spoken by either of them, no sound but the faint, muffled sobbing of the girl, who sat with hidden face. With a look of speechless anger, the man went out and shut the doors behind him. Not seeing, only hearing that he had gone, Jean threw her arms out across the table in an abandonment of grief. The other woman laid on a chair the hat and cloak that she was carrying. Then she went slowly across the room and stood silent a moment at Jean's side.
'What is the matter?'
The girl started. Impossible for her to speak in that first moment. But when she had dried her eyes, she said, with a pathetic childish air—
'I—I've been seeing Geoffrey.'
'Is this the effect "seeing Geoffrey" has?' said the other, with an attempt at lightness.
'You see, I know now,' Jean explained, with the brave directness that was characteristic.
The more sophisticated woman presented an aspect totally unenlightened.
'I know how he'—Jean dropped her eyes—'how he spoiled some one else's life.'
'Who tells you that?' asked Miss Levering.
'Several people have told me.'