As soon as the words were spoken she had gone deadly pale. Was it well to say that? Must there follow yet more explanation? She with difficulty overcame an impulse to speak on and disclose all her mind, the same kind of impulse she had known several times of late. Sheer dread this time prevailed. The eyes that were upon her concealed fire; what madness tempted her to provoke its outburst?
‘I have never done so before,’ she replied confusedly.
‘Why to-day, then?’
She did not answer.
‘And why did you tell—why did you say it was money?’
‘I can’t explain that,’ she answered, her head bowed. ‘I took off the ring thoughtlessly; it is rather loose; my finger is thinner than it used to be.’
On the track of cunning Mutimer’s mind was keen enough; only amid the complexities of such motives as sway a pure heart in trouble was he quite at a loss. This confession of untruthfulness might on the face of it have spoken in Adela’s favour; but his very understanding of that made him seek for subtle treachery. She saw he suspected her; was it not good policy to seem perfectly frank, even if such frankness for the moment gave a strengthening to suspicion? What devilish ingenuity might after all be concealed in this woman, whom he had taken for simplicity itself!
The first bell for luncheon disturbed his reflections.
‘Please sit down,’ he said, pointing to the chair. ‘We can’t end our talk just yet.’
She obeyed him, glad again to rest her trembling limbs.