"Claire seems to agree with you." Falconer spoke lightly, but underneath sounded the note of the disgruntled male ... resentful of the defection of even the girls he left behind him. He added, with his fatal gift of truculent expression, "But that's perfectly absurd."
"Why absurd?" Arlee's voice held careful calm. The flash in her eyes was hidden.
Falconer made a gesture of extreme exasperation. To waste these precious moonlight moments in trifling debate was the very height of maddening futility.
"Oh, the chap's a feather-headed adventurer. What's the use of talking about him?... But that's aside the mark. I want——"
"You mustn't call him an adventurer!" The flash was far from hidden now. Her wide eyes blazed challenge at the disconcerted young man. "It's not fair. It's not true."
"Oh, I don't mean it in any—any financial sense," the harassed Falconer gave back. "But you can't expect me to take him seriously after his exploits in Cairo? He's flighty. He goes off like a rocket. He has illusions—but——"
"If you are going to slander him because of what he did for me—" Arlee's voice was shaking.
"Oh, can't you see that's the key to his character!"
"Yes, I do see it." She sounded triumphant now. For a moment her eves met his full of bright defiance; she hung fire, half scared, then blazed into her revelation.
"For I was in that palace."