“I don’t think so,” Gage was guarding Freda’s secret as best he could and trying to reassure her father who so inspired sympathy and respect. “She is so controlled—so high minded that she would act wisely, I’m sure.”
Mr. Thorstad looked at him curiously.
“Then you have no further information?”
“No—only I hope you’ll take my word that I’m not involved.”
“I am inclined to do so.” Mr. Thorstad put down his untasted glass on the table and accepted Gage’s outstretched hand. “I do not feel exactly as her mother does about the matter. Of course Mrs. Thorstad is actuated by a mother’s great anxiety. I am a little more inclined to trust to Freda’s judgments. She is, as you say, not a person to be the victim of any easy emotion or to yield to any false persuasion. She has great perception of the alliance between true things and beautiful things.”
“I saw that,” said Gage. “You’re very wise, Mr. Thorstad. It’s too bad she can’t be left alone to work this out.”
“Personally,” went on the other, “the scandal doesn’t perturb me at all. It is for her mother’s sake that I feel obliged to overstep my own inclination to let Freda have her own time to make her confidence. I felt it necessary to trace any possible connection you might have with her disappearance. I—I am apt to take the word of a gentleman as truth, Mr. Flandon.”
“You are very good,” said Gage. “Very good. I am deeply grateful.”
“Shall we return to the others?”
The two women were sitting silently, making no pretense at casual talk, their curiosity as to what the two men had said to each other indisguisable.