Yet, all the same, her woman's instinct divined a hidden agitation, and, woman-like, responded to that and that only.
"Mr.Raeburn will never tell me old stories about anybody," she said proudly.

"I asked him once, out--out of curiosity--about you, and he would tell me nothing." "Generous!" said Wharton, drily.

"I am grateful." "No!" cried Marcella, indignantly, rushing blindly at the outlet for emotion.

"No!--you are not grateful; you are always judging him harshly--criticising, despising what he does." Wharton was silent a moment.

Even in the moonlight she could see the reddening of his cheek.
"So be it," he said at last.