Thormanby’s tone was distinctly less confident when he next spoke.
“Do you happen to know,” he asked, “what she means to do?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Could you possibly find out? She might tell you if you asked her.”
“I don’t intend to ask her. I have washed my hands of the whole affair.”
My mother came into the conversation at this point.
“Lalage hasn’t confided in me,” she said, “but she has told Miss Battersby——”
“Ah!” I said, “Miss Battersby is so wonderfully sympathetic. Anybody would confide in her.”
“She told Miss Battersby,” my mother went on, “that she was studying the situation and looking into the law of the matter.”
“Let her stick to that,” said Thormanby.