He leaned nearer. "I have done my part to prevent Miss Ellis's knowing"—Greta raised her china-blue eyes—"the things some of the rest of us know."
"You are very considerate—of Miss Ellis."
"Exactly. I am too considerate of her to let her even apply for a passport without my first of all—enlightening her before you leave."
"Ah,"—she drew in her breath—"you would, would you?"
Napier was aware of having to brace himself to meet the unexpected dart of malignity out of the round eyes. But it passed—taking in the open door of the bedroom as it dropped. And in its place came pure scorn, controlled, intensely quiet, as she inquired in her society manner: "And you think Nan would believe you? You suppose for one moment that your word would stand any chance against mine?"
Napier concealed his harrowing doubt on this head. "I am to understand, then, you are willing that the facts we have been at pains to suppress should be known? Very well. I'll begin by enlightening Mr. Grant and saving him the trouble of seeing about the passport." He caught the sudden shift of focus in the china-blue eyes. "That's what I came up for," Napier added.
There was silence for an instant, except for the talk floating in through the open door: "No, let's fold it in three. I'll show you."
Was it the threat to enlighten Julian which had given her pause? "We have Singleton downstairs,"—Napier quietly suggested witnesses for the convincing of Mr. Grant—"and Grindley up."
"As if I didn't know!"
"Then you must know, too, that we are none of us making this experience harder for you than is necessary. But"—their eyes met—"we are not going to let you take that girl along."