“Where did you meet him?”
“Near the flats,” Monica answered, colouring. “He had just come out—I saw him come out. I had an appointment there that afternoon, and I walked a short way with him, so that he shouldn’t—”
Her voice failed. She saw that Rhoda had begun to mistrust her, to think that she was elaborating falsehoods. The burdensome silence was broken by Miss Nunn’s saying repellently,—
“I haven’t asked for your confidence, remember.”
“No—and if you try to imagine what it means for me to be speaking like this—I am not shameless. I have suffered a great deal before I could bring myself to come here and tell you. If you were more human—if you tried to believe—”
The agitation which found utterance in these words had its effect upon Rhoda. In spite of herself she was touched by the note of womanly distress.
“Why have you come? Why do you tell me this?”
“Because it isn’t only that I have been falsely accused. I felt I must tell you that Mr. Barfoot had never—that there was nothing between us. What has he said? How did he meet the charge Mr. Widdowson made against him?”
“Simply by denying it.”
“Hasn’t he wished to appeal to me?”