He looked round on
faces fallen into a sudden troubled seriousness; no voice was raised in
protest, gay or grave. In an instant he knew that he had done something
far beyond what his humour had suggested; but what it was or how it came
about, he could not tell.
The Benyon brothers were not over-ready of speech in a difficulty; their
thoughts were busy now, but their tongues tied. Marchmont found nothing
to say; he could not help raising his eyes under half-drooped lids till
they rested on May Quisante's face. There was a moment more of silence;
then, answering the tacit summons of the table, May Quisante spoke. She
leant forward a little, smiling, and spoke clearly and composedly.
"Oh, you misunderstood him," she said. "He was consulted, but fell ill
before he could go into all the facts or write his report. But he had
expressed a favourable opinion of the Alethea to my husband." She paused,
and then added, "If you'd taken the trouble to read the prospectus you'd
have known that, Mr. Morewood."
Little Lady Richard laughed nervously, glanced round, and rose from the
table; it was sooner than the ladies were wont to move but, as she said,
nobody seemed to be eating any fruit, and so there was nothing to stay
for.
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