"But we have to face these things," said Jason.
Suddenly Emma turned away from the table to the doorway where Essie, in terror of interrupting the party, yet fascinated still by the spell of Jason's narrative, stood waiting. She was standing, as she always stood, on the sides of her shoes.
"What is it, Essie? What are you standing there for?"
"There's a man come to see Mr. Downes."
"What does he want?"
"He's from the newspaper."
"Tell him to come back to-morrow."
But Jason had overheard. He rose with the napkin still tucked into the fawn-colored vest. "No, Essie. . . . Tell him I'll speak to him now."
"But, Jason. . . ."
"Yes, Em. . . . I might as well get it over."
There was no holding him now; but Emma succeeded in thrusting forward a word of advice.
"Remember, Jason, what the newspapers are like. Don't tell them too much."
A shadow crossed her face, and Philip thought suddenly, "Ma knows he's lying too, and she's afraid he'll overdo it." And then a more fantastic thought occurred to him—that she knew for a good reason that he was lying, that perhaps she had planned the lie to cover up an earlier one.
"I must say it's all very remarkable . . . how Jason's affairs have turned out," said Elmer. "I never would have thought it."
"You never believed in him," said Emma, with an air of triumph, "and now you see."
To Philip the whole room, the table, the people about
