“You have left me alone for a long time,” he said; “where have you been?”
Startled, and having no answer ready, she said:
“I went to see mother. Have you been wanting me, dear?”
“No. Had your mother any news?”
Artemis suddenly felt sick: she had told one lie, and now she would be compelled to tell many more.
“Nothing much. But I felt I had to tell her about you. She was simply overwhelmed with joy, as you can well imagine, and she sent all sorts of nice messages to you.”
Jason sat up in bed, his face wet with perspiration. His eyes were brilliant with the brilliant hardness of polished glass. He looked at Artemis imploringly.
“I don’t know what has happened to me—to us,” he said. “Why do you tell me such lies?” The sound of that last word seemed to whip him to anger. “And where have you been getting all your money from?”
She shrank away from him and went to the table near the window.
“I’ve told you where the money comes from. My brother in London sends it. He has sent it regularly ever since I told him you were ill.”