This, so Evelyn fancied, was more or less correct. Indeed, the man’s disregard of hampering customs had pleased her, but she allowed that some restraints were needful. As it happened, her companion followed up the same train of thought.
“When one breaks down or gets over fences, it’s necessary to discriminate,” she went on lightly. “Men of the Berserker type, however, are more addicted to going straight through the lot. In a way, they’re consistent—having smashed one barrier, why should they respect the next?”
Jessie, as she was quite aware, was playing a dangerous game; one that might afterwards be exposed. Still, the latter possibility was of less account because detection would come too late if she were successful. She was acquainted with the salient points of Evelyn’s character.
“They’re consistent, if not always very logical,” she concluded after a pause. “One endeavours to make allowances for men of that description.”
Something in her tone roused Evelyn to sudden imperious anger. It was intolerable that this woman should offer excuses for Vane.
“What particular allowances do you feel it needful to make in Mr. Vane’s case?” she asked.
Now she was faced by the direct question, Jessie hesitated. As a rule, she was subtle, but she could be ruthlessly frank, and she was possessed by a hatred of the girl beside her.
“You have forced me to an explanation,” she expostulated. “The fact is that while he has a room at the hotel he has an—establishment—in a different neighbourhood. Unfortunately, what you could best describe as a Latin quarter is a feature of some Western towns.”
It was a shock to Evelyn; one she found it hard to face, though she was not convinced. The last piece of information agreed with something Mrs. Nairn had told her; but although she had on one occasion had the testimony of her eyes in support of it, Jessie’s first statement sounded incredible.
“It’s impossible,” she declared.