"That's no use," Barney said, shaking his head slightly.
It was no use; and Bennet was alert-minded enough to recognize it. He had come in with his preconceived notion of the man whom Ethel had met on the train; and in his moment of astonishment at seeing Barney, he had not been able to temper his address to this very different sort of man. So Bennet stood silenced, angry at himself and at Ethel as well as at Barney. He had clenched his hands in his anger; Barney's hands had not closed at all; nor had Barney's color perceptibly altered, nor was his voice raised.
"Miss Carew has told me enough about her talks with you," Barney said to Bennet, "so that I understand that you and I are not likely to see many things from the same point of view."
"I think not," Bennet said. "No, I should say not, if you are the cause of her thinking that my grandfather—"
"Stop!" Barney warned quickly; and Bennet obeyed, more furious at himself for obeying until he realized that Barney was aware that the man who had admitted Bennet was still delaying in the rear hall. In the silence, they heard a door softly open and close; but Bennet went into the hall to make sure that no one was about. He returned still wrathful but also a little ashamed of himself. This Loutrelle not only was different sort from expectations, but clearly he was not recklessly determined on trouble.
"Miss Carew and I had the advantage of being on the spot where something happened," Barney continued. "You can keep on saying that she's crazy and that I am, if you want to; or you can help us to
