"He has been arrested—as I said—with the others."
"No, you did not say so. So they let Blantyre into the game, did they?" he asked almost musingly; then, as if recalling what she had said, he added: "Do you mind telling me exactly what is your interest in Blantyre?"
She looked at him straight in the eyes. For a face naturally so full of humour, hers was strangely dark with stormy feeling now.
"Yes, I will tell you as much as I can—enough for you to understand," she answered.
He drew up a chair to the fire, and she sat down. He nodded at her encouragingly. Presently she spoke.
"Well, at twenty-one I was studying hard, and he was painting—"
"Blantyre?"
She inclined her head. "He was full of dreams—beautiful, I thought them; and he was ambitious. Also he could talk quite marvellously."
"Yes, Blantyre could talk—once," Byng intervened, gently.
"We were married secretly."