Foe--two days ago, asking if he could supply you as nearly as
possible with its bearings."
"Are you telling me--?" I began.
She nodded, searching my face. "Yes, your old friend is the man; and
that's where _I_ come in as a humbug. The reason of this call is
that I want to know why you two, who used to be devoted, are no
longer friends."
"Good Lord!" I exclaimed, not loudly, but more or less to myself.
"You must forgive my lighting a cigar, Constantia. . . . My mind
works slowly." While lighting it I made a miserable attempt to fob
her off and gain time. "When an old friend cuts in and carries
off--"
"That's nonsense," she interrupted sharply; "and you know it; and you
ought to know that I know it."
"Well, then," I protested rather feebly, hating to hurt her,
"you must allow that his behaviour to that man Farrell was a bit
beyond the limit. Of course, if you can forgive it--well, I don't
know. It's odious to me to be talking like this about the man to
whom you're attached--the man I used to worship. And for me, who
still would lose a hand, cheerfully, now as ever, to spare you pain!
.
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