She made no reply.
“Of course she lied when she said we were expecting Thorne,” he pursued. “You knew that, didn’t you?”
“Yes. He was out here to-day and motored me in. But I’d have known anyway.”
“Can’t understand why it’s so much easier for women to lie than tell the truth.”
“Perhaps men teach them it’s easier.”
There was a breath without words.
“For instance,” she went on monotonously and her eyes dropped to the hands clenched against her knees, “you’re going to tell me I’ve no right to misjudge either you or Lilla.”
“Why, my dearest,” Cunningham lifted her lowered face, looked long into it. “There’s nothing mysterious in the whole affair. Kane offered to star her in a new production if she’d get him the backing and she wants me to put up the money. That’s the long and short of it. I had every intention of consulting you.”
She drew away, looking at him straight and direct. Her lips opened but closed without speech. She had been on the point of asking how it happened that he had arrived in town a day ahead of time without letting her know, why he had failed to telephone. But she could not bring herself to question him. And he gave little time.
Lifting both her hands he unlocked them, drew them to his breast and met her eyes unwavering.