'Business, possibly. More likely--the other thing I spoke of.' In this reply Mrs. Strangeways modified her tone, discarding mellifluous tenderness, yet not going quite so far as Alma in neglect of appearances. She was an older woman, and had learnt the injudiciousness of impulsive behaviour. 'Speak plainly--it saves time. You think he won't care to meet me at all again?' 'I don't say that. I should be very sorry indeed to think it. But--to speak as plainly as you wish, dear--I know that someone must have said unpleasant things to him about your--your friendship with Mr. Dymes.' 'Are you hinting at anyone in particular?' Alma asked, salving her self-respect with a poor affectation of haughtiness. 'Ask yourself, my dear, who is at all likely to give him such information.' 'Information?' Alma's eyes flashed. 'That's a strange word to use. Do you imagine there is any information of that kind to be given?' 'I spoke carelessly,' answered the other, smiling. 'Do sit down, dear Mrs. Rolfe. I'm sure you will overtax your strength before Tuesday. I meant nothing whatever, I assure you.' Reluctantly Alma became seated, and the conversation was prolonged. Without disguise they debated the probability that Redgrave was being estranged from Alma by Sibyl Carnaby; of course, taking for granted Sibyl's guilt, and presuming that she feared rivalry. From time to time Alma threw out scornful assertion of her own security; she was bold to the point of cynicism, and recklessly revealed herself. The other listened attentively, still smiling, but without constraint upon her features; at moments she appeared to feel something of admiration. 'There are several things in your favour,' she remarked deliberately, when Alma had declared a resolve to triumph at all hazards. 'Above all--but one need not mention it.' 'What? I don't understand.' 'Oh, I'm sure you do! You alluded to it the other day. Some women have such tiresome husbands.' The look which accompanied this struck Alma cold. She sat motionless, staring at the speaker. 'What do you mean? You think that my husband----?' 'I meant only to encourage you, my dear.' 'You think that my husband has less sense of honour than Mr. Carnaby?' Mrs. Strangeways looked wonderingly at her. 'How strange you are! Could I have dreamt of saying anything so ill-mannered?' 'You implied it!' exclaimed Alma, her voice thrilling on the note of indignation. 'How dare you so insult me! Is it possible that you have such thoughts?' Overcome by what seemed to her the humour of the situation, Mrs Strangeways frankly laughed. 'I beg your pardon a thousand times, my dear Mrs. Rolfe! I have misunderstood, I am afraid. You _are_ quite serious? Yes, yes, there has been a misunderstanding. Pray forgive me.'