"If the Professor himself," Quisante resumed, "had considered it of any
moment, he would have kept a copy or some memorandum of it; but there was
not a word about it among his papers."
There was safety, then, so far as the Professor was concerned; and so far
as Quisante was concerned; of course, also, so far as cousin Mandeville
was concerned. But Quisante's restless eyes seemed to ask whether there
were perfect safety all round, no possibility of Jimmy or Sir Winterton
or anybody else picking up false ideas from careless talk about the few
lines in which the Professor had added nothing. For an instant May's eyes
met his, and she understood what he asked of her. She was to hold her
tongue; that sounded simple. She had held her tongue before, and thus it
happened that Sir Winterton was her husband's friend and trusted him. Now
she was again to be a party to deceiving him, and this time Jimmy Benyon
was to be hoodwinked too. She was to hold her tongue; if by any chance
need arose, she was to lie. That was the request Quisante made of her,
part of the price of being Quisante's wife.
Pages:
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352