“You are right,” he said. “I am not conscious of having said anything to which you could take exception, but it is true that Colonel Martyn gathered that my thoughts of you were not friendly, and I acknowledge that I was to blame in permitting myself to mention your name.”
Her look had been full on his, now she dropped it reflectively. Anger still burned in her eyes, but she was not so composed as she had been. Her breath came and went quickly, and when she spoke her voice was slightly shaken, yet abrupt.
“Be more careful in future.”
“You may trust me,” said Wareham, bowing gravely. He was not surprised at her turning to leave him, what astonished him was that she came back.
“I don’t know whether it is because I am a woman, and have no means of defending myself except by words,” she said coldly, “that I think you owe it to me to tell me what you said to Colonel Martyn.”
“Anything is owing to you that lies in my power. But this is exceedingly difficult.”
“Do you take refuge in an imaginary failure of memory?” she asked, scornfully again.
“On the contrary, I can trust my memory.”
“Then?”
“It is just because the words were so trifling, that I shall find it difficult to convince you that I am keeping back nothing.”