THE SUPERB MOMENT
naught. One fact she understood. He had unequivocally declared himself when he could have no diplomatic reason for doing so. She felt the force of that circumstance, but the knowledge only rooted her there with ebbing anger, and with a blank distressed stare.
"Oh," she said, and again "Oh!" nervously twisting her hands one in another. "Why didn't you tell me before?"
"We told you as soon as we knew ourselves what we were about!" The exasperated voice of youth spoke from him, angry at age who, with cold blood, sees so clearly. "At least," he added, "she meant to tell you four days ago—the same day I told Mr. Rader."
"Has he known, all this while?" She flashed a glance at that third person, sitting forward in his chair, his elbows on his knees, his large hands hanging limp from the wrists. It was plain he was unaware of the conflict, the whirlwind of words going on before him. His trouble, which was seated so plainly in his eyes, was fixed upon some circumstance, remote from the present, perhaps not even spoken by these two so bitterly concerned.
"He probably forgot all about it," Carron said cheerfully. "There's no harm, only we'll have to see that Ferrier holds his tongue."
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