He continued to look at her. “What have you heard?” he asked at last.
“Only that he has done something at Tavora for which the consequences, I gather, may be grave. I am anxious for Una’s sake to know what it is.”
“Does Una know?”
“She is being told now. Count Samoval let slip just what I have outlined. And she has insisted upon being told everything.”
“Then why did you not remain to hear?”
“Because they sent me away on the plea that—oh, on the silly plea of my youth and innocence, which were not to be offended.”
“But which you expect me to offend?”
“No. Because I can trust you to tell me without offending.”
“Sylvia!” It was a curious exclamation of satisfaction and of gratitude for the implied confidence. We must admit that it betrayed a selfish forgetfulness of Dick Butler and his troubles, but it is by no means clear that it was upon such grounds that it offended her.
She stiffened perceptibly. “Really, Captain Tremayne!”