"Yes, something of importance to say," he replied; "a request to ask, which you can grant nowhere so well as here, since you must write."
"Write—what? To whom?"
"To Colston! He may be here during the evening; I do not doubt he will be."
"Colston Drummond will not call this evening."
Hubert's insinuations, together with the mysterious behavior of the two men earlier in the evening, recurred to her mind with unpleasant vividness; yet she hesitated to divulge alike her son's and her own involuntary espionage upon their guests. Consequently she had recourse to temporization for present safety.
"Colston would be remiss in his duty if he failed to inquire for Romaine before he slept," she remarked nervously. "Whatever may be his faults—and he has as few as any man I know—indifference is not one of them; at least, indifference as regards those he loves."
It was like her valiantly to defend the absent, and she spoke from her heart.
Morton watched her with his soul in his eyes, though he turned a shade more pallid, while the lines about his lips grew more tense as each word of hers broke the silence.
"Why should you defend him?" he asked almost harshly.