"Five hundred pounds. That's a detail of small consequence." Mordaunt spoke with grim precision. "It has upset Chris—quite naturally. But even you can hardly hold me responsible for that."
"I should think not! I say, I'm sorry I spoke." Impetuously Noel hugged him to obliterate the effect of his words. "I'm a silly ass. You mustn't mind me. Do you know, I always thought he would somehow, though Chris was so keen on him."
"I was keen on him too," Mordaunt observed, without much humour.
"I'm awfully sorry, old chap. It's a bit of a facer for you. But, you know, you can't trust foreigners. It doesn't do. There was that chap at Valpré. He simply bewitched Chris. She never would hear a word against him, but I'm sure he was a bounder. I've often thought since that he probably manoeuvred that cave business. They're such a wily lot, these Frenchies."
"What cave business?" There was a hint of sharpness in Mordaunt's voice; his brows were drawn.
Noel looked surprised. "Why, the time they got hung up by the tide all night. Mean to say you never heard of it? Oh, my eye!" he broke off blankly. "Then I've let the cat out of the bag!"
"Don't distress yourself. It is of no importance." Mordaunt's tone was suddenly very deliberate. He turned away and began to put on his coat. "Are you ready for luncheon? I'm going down now."
Noel surveyed him doubtfully. "You won't let on I told you, will you?" he said uneasily. "Chris may have asked me to keep it dark."
"I don't suppose she did." Very quietly Mordaunt made reply. "She has more probably forgotten all about it. But I won't give you away in any case. You are ready? Then suppose we go!"
They descended together to find Aunt Philippa and Chris awaiting them in the hall. Chris scarcely looked at her husband. She was very pale.