He asked me to help him that way." Mona noted the stress laid upon the word home, and for the first time she had a suspicion that this girl knew more than even the Logan Trial had disclosed, and that she was being satirical and suggestive.
"Oh, of course," she returned cheerfully in response to Kitty--"you acted as a kind of clerk for him!" There was a note in her voice which she might better not have used.

If she but knew it, she needed this girl's friendship very badly.

She ought to have remembered that she would not have been here in her husband's room had it not been for the letter Kitty had written--a letter which had made her heart beat so fast when she received it, that she had sunk helpless to the floor on one of those soft rugs, representing the soft comfort which wealth can bring.
The reply was like a slap in the face.
"I acted for him in any way at all that he wished me to," Kitty answered, with quiet boldness and shining, defiant face.
Mona's hand fell away from the green baize desk, and her eyes again lost their sight for a moment.

Kitty was not savage by nature.

She had been goaded as much by the thought of the letter Crozier's wife had written to him in the hour of his ruin as by the presence of the woman in this house, where things would never be as they had been before.