Camilla glanced toward the hall where the two young people were sitting in the big haircloth sofa engaged in a harmless investigation of the science of palmistry.
Camilla laughed. "It really looks so, doesn't it? I am sorry, though. I had begun to look on Miss Janney as one of the solutions of our difficulty."
"There isn't any solution of it—not that way—you must take my word for it. Gretchen and I understand each other perfectly. If I can do anything to help Lawrence Berkely with her, I'll do it."
"Oh, you're quite hopeless, Cort," she sighed, "and I have no patience with Larry. I can't see why he doesn't mind his own business."
Bent glanced at the young couple in the hall. "He seems to me to be doing that tolerably well." He leaned forward so that his tone, though lowered, could be heard distinctly.
"There is another solution. Perhaps you had not thought of it." She turned her head quickly and searched his face for a meaning. For reply he coolly turned his gaze in the direction of Jeff and Mrs. Cheyne, who had withdrawn into an embrasure of one of the windows.
"A solution——" she stammered.
"Yes, a way out—for both of us."
"You mean Jeff—and Mrs. Cheyne?" she whispered.
"I do."