Пробний камінь
VII
It’shorrible,it’sdegradingalmost,toreadthesecretsofawomanonemighthaveknown.”Sheadded,inalowertone,“Stephendidknowher—”
“Didhe?”camefromFlamel.
“Heknewherverywell,atHillbridge,yearsago.Thebookhasmadehimfeeldreadfully...hewouldn’treadit...hedidn’twantmetoreadit.Ididn’tunderstandatfirst,butnowIcanseehowhorriblydisloyalitmustseemtohim.It’ssomuchworsetosurpriseafriend’ssecretsthanastranger’s.”
“Oh,Glennard’ssuchasensitivechap,”Flamelsaid,easily;andAlexaalmostrebukinglyrejoined,“Ifyou’dknownherI’msureyou’dfeelashedoes....”
Glennardstoodmotionless,overcomebythesingularinfelicitywithwhichhehadcontrivedtoputFlamelinpossessionofthetwopointsmostdamagingtohiscase:thefactthathehadbeenafriendofMargaretAubyn’s,andthathehadconcealedfromAlexahisshareinthepublicationoftheletters.ToamanoflessthanFlamel’sastutenessitmustnowbecleartowhomtheletterswereaddressed;andthepossibilityoncesuggested,nothingcouldbeeasierthantoconfirmitbydiscreetresearch.Animpulseofself-accusaldroveGlennardtothewindow.WhynotanticipatebetrayalbytellinghiswifethetruthinFlamel’spresence?Ifthemanhadadropofdecentfeelinginhim,suchacoursewouldbethesurestmeansofsecuringhissilence;andaboveall,itwouldridGlennardofthenecessityofdefendinghimselfagainsttheperpetualcriticismofhiswife’sbeliefinhim...
