“Yet you urged him to go!”
“I—Mrs. Landray? Surely you cannot think that!”
“You told me so.”
Benson flushed hotly at her words. “Oh,” he said coldly and resentfully. “This accounts for a good deal I was at a loss to explain.”
“You mean—”
“Your quite evident dislike for me.”
“Well, was not that enough to make me hate you?” she cried fiercely. She was very beautiful in her wrath, as she stood before him drawn up to her fullest height, her head thrown back, and the quick colour coming and going on her face.
“It is very unworthy of you,” he said indignantly. “To hold this against me when I had nothing at all to do with his venture.”
“But you told me in the lane that day that he must go—”
“Pardon me, I told you he could not honourably withdraw.” It was plain that he was shaken by her words and manner. “I warned him in the first instance that he must be careful or he would become committed; I warned him repeatedly. Frankly, I thought the venture singularly ill-advised and rash. I told him so.”