Hugh met her eyes and moved his arms in a gesture of misery.
'No! I will think of something. He is dead, and can't contradict; and the woman will hide—trust her. Your name shan't come into it at all. I owe you that, Sibyl. I'll find some cause for a quarrel with him. Your name shan't be spoken.'
She listened, her eyes down, her forehead lined in thought.
'I know what!' Hugh exclaimed, with gloomy resolve. 'That woman—of course, there'll be a mystery, and she'll be searched for. Why'—he blustered against his shame—'why shouldn't she be the cause of it? Yes, that would do.'
His hoarse laugh caused a tremor in Sibyl; she rose and stepped close to him, and laid a hand upon his shoulder.
'So far you have advised yourself. Will you let me advise you now, dear?'
'Wouldn't that seem likely?'
'I think not. And if it did—what is the result? You will be dealt with much more severely. Don't you see that?'
'What's that to me? What do I care so long as you are out of the vile business? You will have no difficulties. Your mother's money; and then Mackintosh——'
'And is that all?' asked Sibyl, with a look which seemed to wonder profoundly. 'Am I to think only of my own safety?'