“Yes, the day after, when you were all in here.”
“She hadn’t seen the notices?”
I shook my head.
He leaned against the door-post and gazed at his patent leather shoes. As if with reluctance he said slowly:
“I have.”
“What were they like?”
“Rotten.”
He pronounced the word with the “r” strangled yet protesting, as if he had rolled his tongue round it, torn it from its place and put it away somewhere in the recesses of his throat.
“Oh, poor girl!” I moaned.
“That’s why I went up there. She must have seen them and I wished to assure her they were lies.”