"On what does it depend?" she asked, fencing with him.
"On you!"
"Oh, please don't be absurd," she cried, as her interest got the better of her. "Do tell me what this is all about."
"And where do I figure?" asked Roger, with a touch of annoyance in his voice. "As far as I can see you're talking to Judith. Where do I get off?"
"It concerns her as much as it does you," said Good shortly, his smile fading and the vertical lines deepening between his eyes, a plain sign to Judith that he was far from badinage. "In fact," he added seriously, "I think it concerns her even more."
"Then perhaps my absence would be preferable to my company?" demanded Roger with considerable asperity. Good's reply surprised both him and his sister.
"Yes," he said, "I think it would. If you'll leave us for a bit, I'll tell your sister what's on my mind. Then, if she likes, she can tell you."
Roger jumped to his feet. "Well," he cried, "it strikes me that you're disposing of me pretty easily. I'm of age, you know."
"If you say much more," said Good mildly, "I'll be tempted to clear out and try an interview with your sister some other time. Now—if you please."
As soon as the sound of Roger's grumbling had died away, Good burst abruptly into speech.