Billy looked sharply at her. "Other women? Jeffries? Don't you believe it!"
"I didn't say women."
"What then?"
"I can't tell you. And perhaps I'm altogether wrong. But if I'm not wrong, Billy," she said earnestly, "and you've any interest in Mrs. Jeffries at all—say interest enough to want to spare her a shock—she oughtn't to be allowed to read that journal—always supposing it is a journal."
Billy gave a short laugh. "Really, Louie! Is this the Surrey or Sadlers Wells?... You're not serious, are you? Of course it's bound to be painful for her at the best, but she's getting on very well—better than we could have hoped."
Louie made a little despairing gesture. "Well, I can't tell you any more."
"Well, if it's as important as all that, why don't you tell her?"
"I couldn't do that either. Look here, Billy, couldn't you find out about this for me?"
"Oh, dash it all—how can I?"
The saucer of Louie's coffee cup was full of ashes; she added another butt and reached for Billy's case. She looked Billy full in the eyes as he struck a match for her.