He hadn't seen the prospectus. And I----" She
paused a moment. "I had to back up your version." Again she broke off for
a moment. "And after dinner Mr. Marchmont talked to me; and I cried about
it. So, you see, references are embarrassing."
After a pause of a minute or two Quisante said, "Cried about it? About
what?"
She raised her eyes, looked at him a moment, and said simply, "About
having to tell a lie to them." And she added with a sudden quiver in her
voice, "I've known them all my life."
"Maturin was quite wrong. There's absolutely no doubt about that now."
"Was he?" she asked listlessly.
"What did you say?"
"That he'd expressed a favourable opinion about it to you. I kept to the
prospectus. Oh, there's no use talking. It's only with Mr. Marchmont that
it matters. I can't keep it up before him, because he found me crying,
you know."
"Crying!" murmured Quisante. "Crying!" She nodded at him, with the same
faint smile on her lips. The silence seemed very long as she looked at
him and he gazed straight before him, the forgotten paper falling with a
rustle from his knees on to the floor.
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