“Ah!” she said. “How unfortunate, how terribly disappointing! But tell me all you did; I’m not asking from mere curiosity.” She hesitated. “I think you owe me that.”
He told her the story of his wanderings and what he had learned about Kermode’s adventures. She listened with eager attention, and laughed now and then.
“It’s convincing on the face of it,” she declared. “One feels that everything is exactly what Cyril Jernyngham must have done. Will you tell his father?”
“No,” Prescott answered gravely. “He wouldn’t believe the tale.”
“But I feel it can’t be doubted, after what I have heard of Cyril’s character and his conduct in England.”
“You have an open mind. I think you hate injustice; you try to be fair. That, I guess, is why you came to see me.”
Muriel glanced at him sharply, and then smiled.
“I suppose it was; I felt that you have been badly treated. But I only meant to stay a minute or two, and you seem to be busy.”
He did not deny it. Conscious as he was of her charm and his longing for her, he feared to detain her lest he should be driven into some rash avowal.
“I’m very grateful for your confidence,” he answered slowly.