There was a moment of dead silence, in which his shrewd eyes did their work as well as they had done it at any time during his fifty years of life. Then he spoke to her again.
"They wanted me here because they wanted to make use of me," he said. "You knew that."
"They did not put it in that way," she answered. "I dare say you know that."
"You were to befool me as far as you could, and make the place agreeable to me,—you knew that?"
She turned paler.
"I—I have liked you very sincerely!" she broke forth, piteously. "I have liked you! Out of all the rest, that one thing was true! Don't—ah, don't think it was not."
His expression for a moment was a curiously undecided one; he was obliged to rally himself with a sharp rub at his hair.
"I'll tell you what I think of that when you have answered me another question," he said. "There is a person who has done a great deal of work in this matter, and has been very anxious about it, probably because he has invested in it more money than he can spare,—buying lands and doing one thing and another. That person is your husband, Mr. Richard Amory. Tell me if you knew that."
The blood rushed to her face and then left it again.