Geoffrey flicked the ash off his cigarette and laughed. He poured himself out a second glass of the amazing claret.
"It is an unusual thing for me to do," he said, "but your claret is wonderful. You speak of the moral, I speak of the things as they are going to be. To-morrow I shall go out fishing alone as if nothing had happened."
"Ah, but you have not spoken of this?"
Mrs. May indicated the letter lying on the table. Geoffrey looked at her reproachfully.
"Have we not trouble and misery enough in our house without making more?" he asked. "Now, I put it to you as a lady of brains and courage, if you had been in my position, would you have shown that to your family?"
Geoffrey lay back in his chair with the air of a man who has put a poser. At the same time he had ingeniously parried Mrs. May's question.
As a matter of fact, nobody but Ralph and Tchigorsky had seen the paper. And the latter point-blank refused to give his reasons why the letter was to be disclosed to Mrs. May.
She looked at Geoffrey with real admiration.
"I shouldn't," she said. "Of course, you are right and I am wrong. And I dare say you will be able to take care of yourself."