"I didn't positively calumniate you, but just the unpleasant little hints that a friend is so well able to throw out; the sort of thing likely to chill any one. I hope you quite approve?"
"Quite."
"Well, the odd thing was that they didn't quite have the effect I aimed at. He talked of you more and more, instead of less and less. Wasn't it provoking, Rosamund?"
Again their eyes encountered.
"I wish," continued Miss Elvan, "I knew how much of this is truth, and how much Bertha's peculiar humour."
"It's substantial truth. That there may be humour in it, I don't deny, but it isn't of my importing."
"When did he last come to see you?" Rosamund inquired.
"Let me see. Just before he went to see you."
"It doesn't occur to you," said Rosamund, slowly meditative, "that he had some other reason—not the apparent one—for coming to your house?"
"It doesn't occur to me, and never will occur to me," was Bertha's amused answer.