"Not my politics. The duties of my profession, before I was elected a magistrate, sometimes made it necessary to defend such women. You must have known that. There was no dishonor there."
"And my informant added," continued Marian, "that you used your political influence to gain their friendship, perhaps even to protect them, and"—she felt the depths before her; her cheeks went hot; her brown eyes filled—"and certainly to—to——"
She faltered.
He felt it and looked up with anger in his eyes.
"To what?" he demanded.
She clasped her damp hands tight.
"To live with them," she said.
Though he had expected the implication, he had hardly expected so close an approach to the specific, and therefore the start to which it behooved him to give way was not altogether disingenuous.
"Marian!" he cried.
She bent her head.