"Drusilla Fane has been telling me about your--your friend."
She knew he meant the last two words to be provocative. She knew it by
slight signs of nervousness in his way of standing before her, one foot
on the grass and the other on the first step of the portico. He betrayed
himself, too, in an unsuccessful attempt to make his intonation casual,
as well as by puffing at his cigar without noticing that it had gone
out. An instant's reflection decided her to accept his challenge. As the
subject had to be met, the sooner it came up the better.
She looked at him mildly. "What did she say about him?"
"Only that he was the man who put up the money."
"Yes; he was."
"Why didn't you tell me that this morning?"
"I suppose because there was so much else to say. We should have come
round to it in time. I did tell you everything but his name."
"And the circumstances."
"How do you mean--the circumstances?"
"I got the impression from you this morning that it was some millionaire
Johnny who'd come to your father's aid by advancing the sum in the
ordinary way of business. I didn't understand that it was a
comparatively poor chap who was cleaning himself out to come to yours.
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