“My dear Cis,” he said, “of course! But we'd better have this out!”
Grateful for the pressure of his hand, she gave it a convulsive squeeze.
“It's so sordid, Hilary!”
“Sordid! H'm! Let's get it over, then.”
Cecilia had grown crimson. “Do you want me to tell you everything?”
“Certainly.”
“Well, Hughs evidently thinks you're interested in the girl. You can't keep anything from servants and people who work about your house; they always think the worst of everything—and, of course, they know that you and B. don't—aren't—-”
Hilary nodded.
“Mrs. Hughs actually said the man meant to go to B.!”
Again the vision of her sister seemed to float into the room, and she went on desperately: “And, Hilary, I can see Mrs. Hughs really thinks you are interested. Of course, she wants to, for if you were, it would mean that a man like her husband could have no chance.”