"
"Well, perhaps they had," said Pemberton.
"Perhaps they've paid you!"
"Let us pretend they have, and n'en parlons plus."
"They accused her of lying and cheating"--Morgan stuck to historic truth.
"That's why I don't want to speak to them."
"Lest they should accuse me, too?" To this Morgan made no answer, and
his companion, looking down at him--the boy turned away his eyes, which
had filled--saw what he couldn't have trusted himself to utter. "You're
right. Don't worry them," Pemberton pursued. "Except for that, they
_are_ charming people."
"Except for _their_ lying and _their_ cheating?"
"I say--I say!" cried Pemberton, imitating a little tone of the lad's
which was itself an imitation.
"We must be frank, at the last; we _must_ come to an understanding," said
Morgan with the importance of the small boy who lets himself think he is
arranging great affairs--almost playing at shipwreck or at Indians. "I
know all about everything."
"I dare say your father has his reasons,'' Pemberton replied, but too
vaguely, as he was aware.
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