"You know I'm not."
"Well, if you're not, I do think you ought to be more careful of what you say, Paula!" said Roydon.
Her brilliant gaze drifted to his face. "Why? In what way?"
"About my play, for instance. I was just saying to Miss Clare, when you came in, that you might easily give people a wrong impression by talking of backing it. Besides, though I'm awfully grateful, I've changed my mind about it. Miss Clare made me see yesterday that it would be a mistake to rely on a backer."
The expression of contempt which swept over Paula's face made her look suddenly like Stephen. "You've got cold feet," she said. "Whether you like it, or whether you don't, I'm going to put your play on."
"It's extremely generous of you, but -"
"It's nothing of the kind. I'm not doing it from any personal motive, but because I believe in the play. I don't know how you came to write it, but you did, and that's all that concerns me."
He did not know how to interpret these remarks, and merely said: "Yes, but it's sheer folly to tell everyone what you mean to do."
"You're wrong! Stupidly wrong! Everyone knows that I care desperately about Wormwood. I made no secret of it. You heard what I said to Uncle Nat! I should be a fool to change my tune now that Uncle's dead. As big a fool as you, Willoughby!"
"I very much resent that implication!" he said.