“I don’t want to hold that at present.”
“Not even—Mrs. Clephane?”
Harleston raised his eyebrows slightly.
“What do you know about Mrs. Clephane?” he asked.
“That she’s even lovelier and more attractive than Mrs. Spencer.”
“You’ve seen her—you know her?”
“You told me,” replied Carpenter.
“I told you!—I never referred to Mrs. Clephane’s appearance.”
“Exactly: your careful reticence told me more than if you had used tons of words. I’m a reader of secret ciphers; you don’t imagine a mere individual presents much of a problem. I tell you there are too many petticoats mixed up in this affair of the cab of the sleeping horse,” Carpenter repeated. “Be careful, Harleston. Women are a menace—they spoil about everything they touch.”
“Marriage in particular?” Harleston inquired.