Sibyl listened, chafing. When no more seemed to be coming, she elected to treat the communication as a confession forced from reluctant lips. "You see I was right, after all," she said. "And it _was_ Mr. Challis in the cab." The discontinuity of semi-accusation was bewildering, and refutation hung fire for a moment. She ran on, giving her sister no chance. "I really must say, Judith, that I do not understand you at all. But you must go your own way. Do you suppose--can you suppose--that _any_ member of your family would approve of what is going on, if they knew it?" At this point the fact that Judith is really much the cooler of the two tells. "I don't know whom you mean, Sib," she says temperately, "by _they_. No member of my family is plural, that I know of ... well!--it isn't grammar, according to me. However, if you mean the _madre_, we shall very soon see; that is, if the thing doesn't turn out a flash in the pan. I shall tell her all about it at the proper time...." "Meanwhile, hold my tongue, you mean? I'm not at all sure, Judith, that any other sister in my place wouldn't at once tell her mother all she knew about such goings on...." "What are the goings on? I know of no goings on." "I do. This visit to the back slums of a theatre, alone; I mean unaccompanied by any other lady. The impropriety--yes! impropriety--of the whole thing...." "Please don't make a scene, with Elphinstone every half-minute, and mamma just coming down. I never said we were alone. If you had asked me, I should have told you that Mrs. Eldridge was with us." "Who's Mrs. Eldridge?" "A very nice person, a friend of Marianne Challis. Her husband's in the Post Office. Madame Louise could dress her to look almost pretty, if her complexion were better. And _propriety_--oh dear!--the very pink! She rather bored me, in fact, because she wouldn't let it alone." "And was this Mrs. Ostrich--or whatever her name is--satisfied?" "Perfectly. She has known Alfred Challis since before his first wife died, and has the most absolute confidence in him." "I don't fancy your Mrs. Ostrich. Where was Mr. Challis's wife all this time?... well!--this deceased wife's sister, anyhow." "Sibyl! I won't talk to you. Marianne Challis was where we left her, in the stage-box. I don't suppose she left it, but I didn't ask her." "And then did she and Mrs. Ostrich go home separately?" "Eldridge. Marianne Challis and she went away together. They were not going home; Wimbledon's too far, where they are. I really don't know where they are staying." "I'm not curious. But you and Mr. Challis drove home lovingly in a hansom, after acting lovers in a play! There!--you needn't fly out...."