Very briefly she recapitulated the facts of the case, while Cara listened with an expression of increasing gravity.
“You can’t go,” she said with decision, when Ann ceased speaking. “Whatever else you do, you mustn’t spend the evening on board his yacht alone with Brett.”
“And if I’m to save Tony, it’s the only thing to be done,” replied Ann quietly.
“Then you must leave Tony to get out of his difficulties by himself. Sir Philip would pay, I expect, if the matter were put up to him.”
Ann shook her head.
“I’m quite sure he wouldn’t,” she said, “There’s no question of that. He’s reached the limit of his patience. He’d simply turn Tony out of the house—turn him adrift. And that means shipwreck. Tony might—might even do—what he tried to do the other night. Kill himself. He’s desperate. Don’t you see, everything’s doubly bad for him now—when he’s in love with Doreen. Unless he’s pulled out of this hole somehow, it means smashing up his whole life.”
“And if you pull him out of it the way you propose doing, it means smashing up yours,” returned Cara succinctly. “You know what Eliot’s like—how jealous and suspicious. And you know Brett’s reputation!”
“I can manage Brett,” insisted Ann.
Cara made a swift gesture.
“It isn’t that! It’s Eliot, and you know it. If he ever came to hear that you’d been to supper on the Sphinx with Brett, he’d never trust you again.”