“Oh, it isn’t possible!” protested Daisy.  “It simply can’t be.  How did you hear all this?”

Hunt-Goring laughed.  “How does one ever hear anything?  I told you I didn’t vouch for the truth of it.”

“I wonder what I ought to do,” said Daisy.

“Do?” He looked at her.  “What do you contemplate doing?  Is it up to you to do anything?”

Daisy scarcely saw or heard him.  “I am thinking of little Olga.  She is engaged to him.  She—­can’t know of this evil tale.”

“She probably does,” said Hunt-Goring.  “They were very intimate—­she and Violet Campion.”

“It isn’t possible,” Daisy said again.  “Why, I believe she was actually with the poor girl when she died.  Nick told me a little.  He said it had been very sudden and a severe shock to her.”

“I should say it was,” said Hunt-Goring.

She looked at him.  “You were there at the time?”

“I was at The Warren—­yes.”  He spoke with an easy air of unconcern.

Daisy leaned towards him.  “And Nick—­do you think Nick knew?”

Hunt-Goring looked straight back at her.  “I think,” he said deliberately, “that I should scarcely trouble to tackle Nick on the subject.  He knows exactly what it suits him to know.”

“What do you mean?” Daisy spoke sharply, nervously.

“Merely that he and the young man are—­and always have been—­hand and glove,” explained Hunt-Goring smoothly.  “Nick is a very charming person no doubt, but—­”

“Be careful!” warned Daisy.

He made her a smiling bow.  “But,” he repeated with emphasis, “he is not sentimentally particular in a matter of ethics.  He looks to the end rather than the means.  Also you must remember he is a man and not a woman.  A man’s outlook is different.”

“Do you mean that Nick would overlook a thing of this kind?” asked Daisy.

Hunt-Goring nodded thoughtfully.  “I think he would condone many things that you would regard as inexcusable, even monstrous.  Otherwise, he would scarcely have been selected for his present job.”

Daisy was silent.

“And you must remember,” Hunt-Goring proceeded, “that this young Wyndham is a rising man—­a desirable parti for any girl.  He will probably never make another blunder of that description.  It is too risky, especially for a man who means to climb to the top of the tree.”

“You really think it possible then that Nick knows?” Daisy still looked doubtful.

“I think it more than possible.”  Hunt-Goring spoke with confidence.  “I am sorry if it shocks you, but, you know, he is really too shrewd a person not to know current gossip and its origin.”

This was a straight shot, and it told.  Daisy acknowledged it without argument.

“But Olga!” she said.  “Olga can’t know.”

“Perhaps not,” admitted Hunt-Goring.  “And—­in that case—­it would be advisable to leave her in ignorance; would it not?”