He shook his head. “I am far from thinking that,” he replied. “No courage could have sustained the shock which fell on you. I don’t wonder that you fainted. I don’t wonder that you have been ill.”
She paused in rolling up the ball of wool. What did those words of unexpected sympathy mean? Was he laying a trap for her? Urged by that serious doubt, she questioned him more boldly.
“Horace tells me you have been abroad,” she said. “Did you enjoy your holiday?”
“It was no holiday. I went abroad because I thought it right to make certain inquiries—” He stopped there, unwilling to return to a subject that was painful to her.
Her voice sank, her fingers trembled round the ball of wool; but she managed to go on.
“Did you arrive at any results?” she asked.
“At no results worth mentioning.”
The caution of that reply renewed her worst suspicions of him. In sheer despair, she spoke out plainly.
“I want to know your opinion—” she began.
“Gently!” said Julian. “You are entangling the wool again.”