"What!" ejaculated Saltash again. "Did he have the impertinence to tell you so?"
She raised her eyes momentarily; they shone almost black. "He told me--nothing," she said, her voice deep with a concentrated bitterness that made him stare. "He was not in a condition to do so."
Saltash continued to stare. "He was talkative enough when he left me," he remarked.
Her eyes gazed full into his. "Why should you try to deceive me?" she said. "Really, you needn't take the trouble."
Comprehension dawned on his face. He laughed a little in an amused fashion as if to himself. "What! Wasn't the rascal sober when he got back?"
"You know he was not," she said.
"I know he tumbled out of the car and cracked his head," said Saltash. "I daresay he'd been celebrating the Mascot's victory. They all do, you know. But, my dear girl, what of it? Don't look so tragic! You'll get used to it."
"Don't!" Maud said suddenly in a voice that shook. "You make me--sick."
She bent her face swiftly to the violets, and there was a silence.
Saltash continued to swing his leg, his lips pursed to am inaudible whistle. Suddenly he spoke. "Please remember that this is quite unofficial! I don't want a row with Jake!"