"Yes?"
"She wants to know how your rehearsals are going."
"Wonderfully well, as I said."
Charmain spoke almost gravely. Her exultant enthusiasm had died away for the moment.
"And, if it is allowed, she would like to go to one. Can she?"
Charmian hesitated. But the strong desire for Mrs. Shiffney's verdict overcame a certain suddenly born reluctance of which she was aware, and she said:
"I should think so. Why not? Even a spy cannot destroy the merit of the enemy's work by wishing."
Susan said nothing to this.
"You must come with her if she does come," Charmian added.
She was still feeling hurt. She had looked upon Susan as her very special friend. She had let Susan see into her heart. And now she realized that Susan had criticized that heart. At that moment Charmian was too unreasonable to remember that criticism is often an inevitable movement of the mind which does not touch the soul to change it. Her attempt at cordiality was, therefore, forced.