"I have failed to see the deep part," Beth ventured, turning her face from the light.
"Evidently she interests Mr. Bedient."
"I wonder if she really does?" Beth said idly. The Grey One was not a tale-bearer. She would not have spoken at all, except granting Beth's knowledge.
"I don't like to see him lose caste that way," the Grey One went on. "He's too splendid, and yet she's the sort that twirls men. She knows he has interested all of us, and doubtless wants to show her strength. Possibly he hasn't thought twice about it. That's what Vina says. And then Mrs. Wordling was one of those first asked to meet him. I wish David Cairns hadn't done that——"
"David's idea was all right," Beth said slowly. "He thought one of her kind would set us all off to advantage. Then, I was painting her poster——"
"It would have been only a little joke in a man's club, but the Smilax took to it as something looked and yearned for long…. Two things appear funny to me. Mrs. Wordling has lived at the Club part of the year for three years, and yet didn't know the Park was locked at midnight. And she, who has done all the crying about consequences, was the one who told me——"
Beth was beginning to understand. Here was an opening such as she had awaited: "What is her story?" she asked.
"Why, they met between eleven and twelve coming into the Club—one of those perfect nights. Wordling dismissed her carriage and talked a little while before going in. The Park looked inviting for a stroll—full moon, you know. They crossed. Wordling didn't know or had forgotten about midnight locking. 'His talk was so interesting,' she said…. It was after one, when Mr. Bedient hailed a page at the Club entrance."
"From inside the bars, across the street?" Beth asked.
"Of course. The boy came over with the keys."