"Yes," she murmured through her handkerchief.
"Otherwise," said he, "there's no room for us both here. One single suggestion that she isn't welcome—and you have full warning now of the consequences!"
"When is she coming?" she asked in an uncertain voice.
"When? Possibly never. But there's some very fishy—and it looks to me, some very dirty business going on, and this port stands open in case of a storm. You fully understand?"
"Of course I do," she said, putting away her handkerchief. "I'm not quite a fool!"
And indeed, none of her friends or acquaintances had ever made that accusation against Lilian Cromarty.
"Well, that's all," said Ned, and began to move across the room.
But now the instinct for finding a scapegoat began to revive.
"Who did you tell it to, Ned?" she asked.
"Simon Rattar."
"Then he has spread this dreadful story!" she exclaimed with righteous indignation.
Her brother stopped and slowly turned back.
"By heaven, I've scarcely had time to think it all out yet—but it looks like it!"
"It must be that nasty grumpy old creature! If you told nobody else—well, it can't be anybody else!"
