"But they told me—I mean I thought you were in London with Mrs.
Cartaret, all the time."
She laughed.
"Did Papa tell you that?"
"No. I don't know who told me. I—I got the impression." He almost stammered. "I must have misunderstood."
She meditated.
"It sounds awfully like Papa. He simply can't believe, poor thing, that I'd stick to anything so respectable."
"Hah!" He laughed out his contempt for the Vicar. He had forgotten that he too had wondered.
"Chuck it, Gwenda," he said, "chuck it."
"I can't," she said. "Not yet. It's too lucrative."
"But if it makes you seedy?"