“It appears,” she began, frowning in Freddie Stickney’s direction. “It appears that privacy has gone out of fashion since I went away. That’s a new phase for Friocksheim, and I don’t feel I’m much to blame for not anticipating it. Certainly, I didn’t foresee such a state of affairs, and to that extent I’m responsible for some events which ought never to have occurred.”
She stared at Freddie as though he were some curious animal which she was inspecting for the first time.
“It seems,” she went on acidly, “that no one can have any private affairs now, so I think the best thing is to have a complete clearing-up of some misunderstandings—is that the right word, Mr. Stickney?—which have got abroad. I don’t wish to leave any ground for such things in future. Miss Cressage agrees with me.”
She turned to the girl.
“Tell them the whole affair from start to finish, Eileen.”
Eileen Cressage looked up, but paused for a moment or two before saying anything. Westenhanger could see that she hated the business, but was determined to go through with it.
“Some of you know,” she began, “that the other night I lost a lot of money at bridge. I didn’t realise during the game how big a loss it was. Very foolish of me, I admit.”
Mrs. Brent interrupted her sharply.
“I think the facts will be quite sufficient, Eileen. I shouldn’t make any comments, if I were you.”
Eileen accepted the correction, understanding the underlying motive.