He started to question her further and then stopped.
“You knew all along who I was,” he said at last.
“Yes—from the first.”
“And that made no difference?”
She shook her head, smiling a little, but not looking at him.
“A precious fine reputation I’ve got,” he said bitterly. “Wait till you see what the papers will make of Dan Garford’s latest escapade!”
She shrugged her shoulder impatiently, and checked a reply with a quick frown and a glance at the others, as though conscious of their sleeping intrusion.
“I think he told the truth,” he said disjointedly, after a moment.
“Who? Drinkwater?”
“Yes; I’m sure of it.” He pressed his knuckles against his lips and said, frowning, “Well, that leaves only one more thing to do.” He said it quietly, but with an accent of deep finality. When she thought him quite lost in this mood, he surprised her by saying, “Why does it make a difference to you?” He turned, caught the look of astonishment on her face, and added: “Why would you rather that I should be married?”