'Much more convenient,' echoed Rose sharply. 'And you have known this all the time, and not----' she broke off, as if incredulous of her own half-uttered thought.
'Certainly, I have known it, and we would have kept the secret too, Fitzgerald and I, but for this unfortunate business,' he retorted, and his tone was not pleasant.
'Ah! he is different; he did not know! he thought George had done it for his sake, to screen him. But you? What did you believe?' The girl's very voice was a challenge.
'I must say, Miss Tweedie, that I scarcely see how my belief affects the question; or, pardon me, what it matters to you,' he replied, taking refuge once more in his indifference.
'Do you not? Then I do. Not that it matters now,' she added in sudden passion, 'for I will have my own way in the future. If you won't help me, I can't help that; but I will have the truth. I will go down to this woman in the bazaar and make her tell me. Whether her story is a lie or not, there shall be no more concealment. I will not have it.'
'And George Keene's memory?' he suggested, angered almost beyond his self-control by her unmistakable defiance. 'My advice is unwelcome, of course, but if you took it, and Mrs. Boynton's--only that is unwelcome too--you might save all scandal. I cannot say for certain that it would, but as I have told you, I would do my best. Officially even, I would do my best. That seems to be an offence also, for some reason, but I would do it as much for the sake of the Department as for the boy's. You--I know--think only of him----'
She turned upon him like lightening, carried out of herself by her scorn, by her passion.
'Of him! I was not thinking of him at all! I was thinking of you--of you only, as I always do. Why should you not know the truth? You will not care a pin whether I think of you or not. And I? I care for nothing--nothing so long as you do not blindfold yourself wilfully--so long as you are just and honest. Ah! you may think I am mad--perhaps if what you believe about men and women is true, I am--but it means everything--everything in the world to me that you should be so--just and honest; because what you are is more to me than all the world beside. That is the truth.' The last words came slowly as the fire of her passion died down; yet there was no uncertainty in them. 'I suppose I oughtn't to have said this,' she went on, turning from him to lean her elbows on the table, and rest her head on her hands wearily. 'But you won't mind, and I don't care. It can't hurt any man to know that he is loved--it can't.'
'Loved!' The word sent a thrill through the man such as he had never felt before. 'Loved!' was that what she meant? The thought broke through even his armour of surprise. He stood for an instant looking down at her, then turned slowly and walked to the window, to return, however, in a second, with quick clear steps breaking the silence of the room.
'What do you mean!--I can't believe it. What do you mean?'