"Yes, if you'd seen her eyes. You know how a dog looks when his master kicks him. Like that."
"Good God, Warren—"
"Oh, I don't suppose you like it," said Warren grimly. "But let me remind you that if it's unpleasant for you to listen, it's hell for me to tell you. I suppose you know what brought Julia to Oak Knoll to rescue you by force of arms."
"I believe Miss Kent wrote a letter."
"Yes, under pretense of congratulating Julia on her prospective engagement, she wrote her that you had been spending the most of your summer in the company of an attractive young girl. She'd sized up Julia's disposition pretty cleverly and she reckoned that if anything would hold her back, it would be a suspicion that there was a flaw in her title to your life-long devotion."
"But surely if she had felt as you imagine—"
"We're talking of Hephzibah, you know," growled Warren. "She was thinking of your happiness, not of hers. Of course she knew she was taking a long shot. She was too smart to miss that little point. She risked exposure to give you what you wanted. That's the sort she is." He added gloomily, "I don't know why I'm such a fool as to tell you all this. I suppose it's because I know I haven't the ghost of a chance."
There was a long, depressing silence. "Well," said Forbes at length, his voice curiously shaken, "where shall I find her?"
"Good God, man, I don't know."
"You don't know?"