“If you imply that Rosamund is insincere, is capable of acting a part, we shall quarrel. Robin was really ill. Rosamund fully meant to go to your dinner. She bought a new dress expressly for it.”
“Forgive me, old Dion, and please don’t think I was attacking Rosamund. No. But I think sometimes the very sweetest and best women do have their little bit of insincerity. To women very often the motive seems of more importance than the action springing from it. I had an idea that perhaps Rosamund was anxious not to hurt some one’s feelings.”
“Whose?”
After a slight hesitation Daventry said:
“Mrs. Clarke’s.”
“Did Mrs. Clarke know that Rosamund accepted to go to your dinner?” asked Dion abruptly, and with a forcible directness that put the not unastute Daventry immediately on his guard.
“What on earth has that to do with it?”
“Everything, I should think. Did she?”
“No,” said Daventry.
“Then how could—?” Dion began. But he broke off, and added more quietly: