“I know very little about him,” said Betty now, in a low but clear voice, without emphasis.
“I must try to make you understand this, my dear. Here the man is. Within the hour we are to sit down at tiffin with him. It is growing clearer every minute that Mr. Boatwright's suspicion was correct—
“You have no right to use that word!”
“Well, then, his surmise, say. There is something between you and this man. Don't you think you'd better tell me what it is?”
“There is nothing—nothing at all—that I need tell you.”
“Is there nothing that you ought to tell your father?”
“You can not speak for him.”
“I stand in his place, while he's away It is a responsibility I must accept. You say you know very little about the man?”
Betty bowed.
“You met him on the ship, by chance?”