She found herself breathless over the words. They brought her very near him, and after all she was not sure what kind of brother he was, save that he had to be supremely loved. He looked pale to her now, of a yellowed, unhappy hue, and he was staring at her fixedly. "Innocent!" he repeated. "What do you mean by innocent?" Lydia took heart again, since he really did invite her on. "Why, of course," she said, "we all know--Farvie and Anne and I--we know you never did it." "Did what?" "Lost all that money. Took it away from people." The softness of her voice was moving to him. He saw she meant him very well indeed. "Lydia," said he, "I lost the money. Don't make any mistake about that." "Yes, you were a promoter," she reminded him. "You were trying to get something on the market." She seemed to be assuring him, in an agonised way, of his own good faith. "And people bought shares. And you took their money. And--" her voice broke here in a sob of irrepressible sympathy--"and you lost it." "Yes," said he patiently. "I found myself in a tight place and the unexpected happened--the inconceivable. The market went to pieces. And of course it was at the minute I was asked to account for the funds I had. I couldn't. So I was a swindler. I was tried. I was sentenced, and I went to prison. That's all." "Oh," said Lydia passionately, "but do you suppose we don't know you're not the only person concerned? Don't you suppose we know there's somebody else to blame?" Jeff turned on her a sudden look so like passion of a sort that she trembled back from him. Why should he be angry with her? Did he stand by Reardon to that extent? "What do you mean?" he asked her. "Who's been talking to you?" "We've all been talking," said Lydia, with a frank simplicity, "Farvie and Anne and I. Of course we've talked. Especially Anne and I. We knew you weren't to blame." Jeff turned away from her and went back into his room. He shut the door, and yet so quietly that she could not feel reproved. Only she was sad. The way of being a sister was a harder one than she had looked for. But she felt bound to him, even by stronger and stronger cords. He was hers, Farvie's and Anne's and hers, however unlikely he was to take hold of his innocence with firm hands and shake it in the public face.