“It's his acting,” she thought. “I wonder what his next pretense will be?”
Wiggins sat for some minutes without saying a word. When at length he raised his head he did not look at Edith, but fastened his eyes on vacancy, and went on to speak in a low voice.
“Your remarks,” said he, “are all based on a misconception. This man is no confederate of mine. I have no confederate. I—I work out my purpose—by myself.”
“I'm sure I wish that I could believe this,” said Edith; “but unfortunately Mrs. Dunbar espouses his cause with so much warmth and enthusiasm that I am forced to conclude that this Leon Dudleigh must be a very highly valued or very valuable friend to both of you.”
“In this case,” said Wiggins, “Mrs. Dunbar and I have different feelings.”
Instead of feeling gratified at this disclaimer of any connection with Leon Dudleigh, Edith felt dissatisfied, and somewhat disconcerted. It seemed to her that Wiggins was trying to baffle her and throw her off the right track. She had hoped that by speaking out frankly her whole mind she might induce him to come to some agreement with her; but by his answers she saw that he was not in the least degree affected by her warnings, or her threats, or her offers.
“This Leon Dudleigh,” said she, “has all along acted sufficiently like a confederate of yours to make me think that he is one.”
“How?”
“By coming into these grounds at all times; by having privileges equal in all respects to your own; by handing over those privileges to his spy and emissary—the one who took the name of Lieutenant Dudleigh. Surely all this is enough to make me think that he must be your confederate.”
“You are altogether mistaken,” said Wiggins, quietly.