"How worse, Tom?"
He forgot the tacit truce for the moment.
"Duxbury Farley and his son had deliberately wrecked the company."
She laid a restraining hand on his arm.
"Let us understand each other," she said gently. "You must not say such things of Mr. Farley and—and his son to me. If you do, I can't listen."
"You don't believe what I say?"
"I believe you have convinced yourself. But you are vindictive; you know you are. And I mean to be fair and just."
He let the plodding horse measure a full half-mile before he turned and looked at her with anger and despair glooming in his eyes.
"Tell me one thing, Ardea, and maybe it will shut my mouth. What is Vincent Parley to you—anything more than Eva's brother?"
Another young woman might have claimed her undoubted right to evade such a pointed question. But Ardea saw safety only in instant frankness.