"Have you, indeed, Mr. Larcher?" said Jenny, with feigned surprise. "And why, may I ask?"
"Oh, for no particular purpose, unless, indeed, it was to ask you for further information concerning the novel."
"Hush. Not a word of that. I can't speak of it to you. I know who you are, Mr. Larcher, but I am ignorant of the tragedy save what I told to Frank, and later on to Mr. Tait."
"But you can guess——"
"I can guess nothing," interrupted the girl imperiously. "If you and I are to remain friends you must cease talking on that subject."
"I'll do anything to remain friends with you, Miss Paynton," was the significant reply.
"Then talk of anything save that terrible case. Oh, how I wish I had left it alone!"
"I'm glad you did not," said Claude bluntly. "If it had not been for that book——"
Before he could finish the sentence Jenny shot an indignant look at him, and deliberately rising from her seat crossed the room to where Frank Linton was frowning and tugging at his mustache. Claude was vexed at his folly in thus drawing down her anger on him, but accepted his beating like a man, and passed over to where Mrs. Hilliston waited with an expectant face. She remarked on his tardy coming with some bitterness.
"I see you prefer a younger face to mine," she said, drawing herself up. "Time was when I had no rival to fear."