“But admitting that you were duped by your gratitude, how did it happen that your curiosity never led you to inquire into the nature of those messages?”
“I respected Sir Joseph beyond all people. I supposed that what he did was right. I never knew it not to be. And then––well, if, I did wonder a little once in a while, I thought I’d better mind my own business.”
Verrinder had his opinion of this, too. “Minding your own business! That’s another of those poisonous virtues. Minding your own business leads to pacifism, malevolent neutrality, selfishness of every sort. It’s death to charity and public spirit. Suppose the Good Samaritan had minded his own business! But–– Well, this is getting us no forwarder with you. You carried those messages, and never felt even a woman’s curiosity about them! You met Nicky Easton often, and never noted his German accent, never suspected that he was not the Englishman he pretended to be. Is that true?”
He saw by the wild look in her eyes and their escape from his own that he had scored a hit. He did not insist upon her acknowledging it.
“And your only motive was gratitude?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You never asked any pay for it?”
“No, sir.”
“You never received anything for it?”
“No, sir.”