“You cannot?” echoed Moira in an equally low tone.
“I cannot,” he replied. Then, raising his voice, “Ask the Superintendent. He knows that I cannot.”
“Do you know?” said Moira, turning upon the Superintendent, “What does he mean?”
The Superintendent rose angrily.
“Mr. Raven chooses to be mysterious,” he said. “If he cannot remain here he knows why without appealing to me.”
“Ah, my dear Superintendent, how unfeeling! You hardly do yourself justice,” said Raven, proceeding to draw on his gloves. His drawling voice seemed to irritate the Superintendent beyond control.
“Justice?” he exclaimed sharply. “Justice is a word you should hesitate to use.”
“You see, Miss Cameron,” said Raven with an injured air, “why I cannot remain.”
“No, I do not!” cried Moira in hot indignation. “I do not see,” she repeated, “and if the Superintendent does I think he should explain.” Her voice rang out sharp and clear. It wakened her brother as if from a daze.
“Tut, tut, Moira!” he exclaimed. “Do not interfere where you do not understand.”