Rhoda could not play at smooth phrases with this poor, dispirited woman, whose change during the last few years, and especially during the last twelve months, had often occupied her thoughts in a very unpleasant way. She came almost at once to the subject of their interview.
“Why have you not been to see me before this?”
“I—really couldn’t. The circumstances—everything is so very painful. You know—of course you know what has happened?”
“Of course I do.”
“How,” asked Virginia timidly, “did the news first of all reach you?”
“Mr. Widdowson came here and told Miss Barfoot everything.”
“He came? We didn’t know that. Then you have heard the accusation he makes?”
“Everything.”
“It is quite unfounded, I do assure you. Monica is not guilty. The poor child has done nothing—it was an indiscretion—nothing more than indiscretion—”
“I am very anxious to believe it. Can you give me certainty? Can you explain Monica’s behaviour—not only on that one occasion, but the deceit she practised at other times? Her husband told Miss Barfoot that she had frequently told him untruths—such as saying that she called here when she certainly did not.”