“I must, Beryl.”
“I don’t think that’s fair. It isn’t fair to me or to him.”
“I can’t help that. Please don’t ask me anything more. And please destroy that letter. Or let me destroy it.”
She held out her hand, but Miss Van Tuyn sat quite still.
“I must tell you something,” she said. “If you will not explain to me I think I ought to go for an explanation to someone else.”
“Someone else!” said Lady Sellingworth in a startled voice. “But—do you know—to whom would you go?”
“I think I ought to go to him, to the man you accuse of nameless things.”
“But you can’t do that!”
“Why not? It would only be fair.”
“But what reason could you give?”