ISABEL looked down at the letter in her hand — considered it in silence — and turned to Moody¹. “I feel tempted² to open it already,” she said.

“After giving your promise?” Moody gently remonstrated³.

Isabel met that objection with a woman’s logic⁴.

“Does a promise matter?” she asked, “when one gives it to a dirty, disreputable, presuming old wretch⁵ like Mr. Sharon? It’s a wonder to me that you trust such a creature. I wouldn’t!”

“I doubted him just as you do,” Moody answered, “when I first saw him in company with Mr. Troy. But there was something in the advice he gave us at that first consultation⁶ which altered my opinion of him for the better. I dislike his appearance and his manners as much as you do — I may even say I felt ashamed of bringing such a person to see you. And yet I can’t think that I have acted unwisely in employing Mr. Sharon.”

Isabel listened absently. She had something more to say, and she was considering how she should say it. “May I ask you a bold question?” she began.

“Any question you like.”

“Have you —” she hesitated and looked embarrassed. “Have you paid Mr. Sharon much money?” she resumed, suddenly rallying her courage. Instead of answering, Moody suggested that it was time to think of returning to Miss Pink’s villa⁷. “Your aunt may be getting anxious about you.” he said.

Isabel led the way out of the farmhouse⁸ in silence. She reverted⁹ to Mr. Sharon and the money, however, as they returned by the path across the fields.

分享到：