"And I suppose it's really my fault," she said unhappily. "I brought them together in the first instance. Penny, I was a fool. But I was so afraid—so afraid of Nan with Maryon. He might have made her do anything! He could have twisted her round his little finger at the time if he'd wanted to. Thank goodness he'd the decency not to try—that."
Penelope regarded her with an odd expression.
"Maryon's still in love with Nan," she observed quietly, "I saw that at the studio."
Kitty laughed a trifle harshly.
"Nan must be 'Maryon-proof' now, anyway," she asserted.
Penelope remained silent, her eyes brooding and reflective. That odd, magician's charm which Rooke so indubitably possessed might prove difficult for any woman to resist—doubly difficult for a woman whose entire happiness in life had fallen in ruins.
The entrance of the maid with a telegram gave her the chance to evade answering. She tore open the envelope and perused the wire with a puzzled frown on her face. Then she read it aloud for Kitty's benefit, still with the same rather bewildered expression.
"Is Nan with you? Reply Trenby, Century Club, Exeter."
"I don't understand it," she said doubtfully.
"I do!"