'You say I knew very little,' put in the other, turning a ring upon her hand; 'but you will admit that it was enough to excite my curiosity. May I not have taken trouble to learn more?'
'Any amount of trouble would have taught you nothing; there was nothing to discover. And that you know as well as I do.'
Mrs. Strangeways moved her head, as if in good-natured acquiescence.
'Don't let us be harsh with each other, my dear. We have both had our worries and trials in consequence of that unfortunate affair. You, I can see, have gone through a good deal; I assure you, so have I. But oughtn't you to remember that our misfortunes were caused by the same person? If I——'
'Your misfortunes are nothing to me. And I shouldn't think you would care to talk about them.'
'Surely I might say the same to you, my dear Alma? Is there very much to choose between us?'
Alma flushed with resentment, but had no word ready on her parched tongue. The other went on in an unbroken flow of mocking good humour.
'We ought to be the best of friends. I haven't the least wish to do you harm, and nothing would please me better than to gratify your little feeling against a certain person. I may be able to manage that. Let me tell you something—of course in the strictest confidence.' Her voice was playful for a moment. 'I have been trying to find someone—you know who I mean—who mysteriously disappeared. That interests you, I see. It's very difficult; such people don't let themselves be dropped upon by chance a second time. But, do you know, I have something very like a clue, at last. Yes'—she nodded familiarly—'I have.'
In vain Alma tried to lock her lips.
'What if you find her?'