Oh, she could never tell him it was for him! In her distress and embarrassment she looked all ways.
His quick white finger touched her on the wrist. "For Cressy?"
The abrupt stern note of his question startled her. She held herself stiff and still for a moment, then: "For every one in this wretched business. I have to."
"Ah," he sighed out the satisfaction of his long uncertainty, "then Cressy is in it."
"No, I didn't mean that—you mustn't think it—I can't discuss him with you!" She was hot to recapture her fugitive admission.
"Don't let that disturb you. You haven't given him away to me. I had all I'm likely to get from the man himself."
"He—he told you?" she faltered.
"He told me nothing. Don't you know that he misdoubts me? I got it out of him, by sleight of hand—where we had met before. Has he never told you anything of that morning when we left your house together?"
"Never." The admission cost her an effort.
He mused at her. "As I said, he told me nothing, but it occurred to me when he came in that we might be there on the same errand."