“Ah! yes,” she responded bitterly, glancing quickly at me. “Until—until they tell you the truth—only until then!”
How could I determine her meaning? How could I explore the labyrinth that surrounded her?
My brain still conjured up excuse upon excuse and warred against my better reason.
“But I don’t understand?” I said. “Why not speak more plainly—tell me everything?”
“Ah!” she sighed, her eyes fixed before her. “As I look back upon life’s stormy sea my resolution stands appalled, and I more wonder that I am than that I should be thus. Were ever woman’s trials such as mine?—or if they were, then show me that creature. Soon the busy tongue of scandal will be unfettered, and the ears of greedy calumny opened wide to swallow every breath of defamation and still add falsehood upon falsehood to blacken and condemn a helpless woman! Ah! I know,” she added. “I know what the future holds for me.”
“Then if so, why not allow me to assist you in arming against these enemies of yours and against Marigold especially?” I urged after those desperate words of hers had fallen upon me.
“Marigold! Why against her? She is my friend.”
“No, Lolita,” I responded in a low earnest tone. “She is your bitterest enemy. She knows the truth of this strange allegation against you, and she can clear you if she wishes—only she refuses.”
“Refuses! Whom has she refused?”
“Richard Keene.”