"No." Edgar did not hear himself speak.
"Who told you that?" indignantly cried Claudia. "It's scandalous!"
Olivia, disconcerted, tried to remember the name of her informant. The general distress was so obvious that she slightly reddened.
"Wait a minute," she said. "I'm sorry if I've said something I ought not to. I thought there wasn't any question about it. I think it was Blanche Tallentyre who told Peter."
"Well, it's not true!" cried Claudia. "What a beast Blanche Tallentyre must be. Have you ever met her, Edgar?"
Edgar, deeply moved, was staring at the table, his face stern. All their eyes were upon him. He had a remembered glimpse of an unhappy-looking woman across a dinner-table, of lips parted to speak, of a speech checked and an enmity formed in a single instant.
"Yes," he answered slowly. "At Monty's. Patricia was rude to her. That's the explanation. Not deliberately rude, but wounding. I saw that she felt vicious about it. But surely you don't accept anything she might say as probable, Olivia?"
"Perhaps not," Olivia agreed. "No: she isn't a nice woman. I suppose there's no doubt that she's Monty's mistress, herself."
"Dear, dear!" protested Mrs. Mayne. "It seems so horrible to have that word bandied about by nice young girls. It's such a pity. Don't you think so, Mr. Gaythorpe?"