"Did you not hear Miss Garthorne tell you so?" asked Cuthbert.
"Peggy is behaving very wickedly."
"It is you who are behaving badly," said Mallow bluntly, "you know much about this case and you are keeping me in the dark."
"It is for your own good," murmured Juliet.
"You should allow me to be the best judge of that. Come in here," and Cuthbert drew her towards the open door of the dancing-room, "tell me what you know and how it affects me."
The room was large and bare and empty. At one end there was a kind of dais on which was placed a few chairs. The young man walked up to this and turned to beckon Juliet, for whom he placed a chair. She still lingered at the door and seemed disposed to fly.
"Juliet, if you go now, all is over," he said determinedly.
"Cuthbert, how can you?"
"Because I mean what I say. Things can't go on like this. You think of your brother—of your mother. You never give a thought to me."
Juliet came up the room hurriedly. "I am thinking of you all the time, Cuthbert," she said angrily, "I keep silence for your good."