Sidney wriggled. "Of course I don't know anything about this," he said.
"Probably not; but you do know the things that started it, the whispers and chatterings and talebearings. You know, too, that the girl—I believe her name is Zélie—is employed by your mother."
"Yes; that is, I know she's got a French maid."
"Then you can see that she's discharged."
"Oh, come now! Isn't that butting into our affairs?"
"Can you deny discussing her story, her malicious, scandalous story, in public?"
"I don't know that I have. Perhaps we've heard things, and, good heavens, man, things travel!"
"In the usual channel, yes," Belhaven assented dryly. "Come, Billop, you're a man, you'll have to answer for this; we'll have to settle it once for all."
"Oh, I say—do you think this is just the time or the—the place?" Sidney glanced miserably about the room for a means of escape.
"Astry knows that I intend to settle it," Belhaven replied sternly. "We may as well do it here as anywhere—unless you prefer the terrace," he added grimly.