lept in the house
last night?"

"The mater's in an awful state of nerves," he said.

Incidentally I had to admit to myself that I had not made sufficient
allowance for that indubitable fact, but I chose to disregard it at the
moment. I wanted to be sure of the treachery of Grace Tattersall.

"You asked me not to beat about the bush, a minute ago," I said, "and now
you're trying to dodge all my questions with the most futile and palpable
evasions."

"For instance?" he replied calmly, with a cunning that nearly trapped me.
For when I tried to recall, as I thought I could, a specific and
convincing instance of his evasion, I realised that to cite a case would
only draw us into an irrelevant bickering over side issues.

"Your last three or four answers were all obvious equivocations," I said,
and raising my voice I went straight on over his attempt to expostulate by
adding, "And if Mrs. Jervaise's state of nerves is an excuse for her
confiding in _you_, it isn't, in my opinion, any excuse for her confiding
in Miss Tattersall and Nora Bailey and Hughes, and setting them on
to--ostracise me."

"Oh! come," Jervaise protested, a little taken aback. I had put him in a
quandary, now. He had to choose between an imputation on his mother's good
taste, savoir faire, breeding--and an admission of the rather shameful
source of the present accusation against me.

"As a matter of fact, it's absolutely clear to me that Grace Tattersall is
at the bottom of all this," I continued, to get this point settled. "I'm
perfectly sure your mother would not have treated me as she did unless her
mind had been perverted in some way."

"But why should she--Miss Tattersall--I mean she seemed rather keen on
you..."

"I can explain that," I interrupted him. "She wanted to gossip with me
about the whole affair this morning, and she made admissions that I
suppose she was subsequently ashamed of. And after that she discovered by
an accident that I had met Banks, and jumped to the totally false
conclusion that I had been drawing her out for my own disreputable
purposes."

"Where did you meet Banks?" was Jervaise's only comment on this
explanation.

"I'm going to tell you that," I said. "I told you that I meant to be
perfectly honest with you, but I want to know first if I'm not right about
Miss Tattersall."

"She has been a bit spiteful about you," he admitted.

"So that's settled," I replied by way of finally confirming his admission.
"Now