‘I have come for that.’

‘Then I am not so unjust as to refuse to hear you.’

’My name has been spoken of together with Mr. Barfoot’s.  This is wrong.  It began from a mistake.’

Monica could not shape her phrases.  Hastening to utter the statement that would relieve her from Miss Nunn’s personal displeasure, she used the first simple words that rose to her lips.

’When I went to Bayswater that day I had no thought of seeing Mr. Barfoot.  I wished to see someone else.’

The listener manifested more attention.  She could not mistake the signs of sincerity in Monica’s look and speech.

‘Some one,’ she asked coldly, ‘who was living with Mr. Barfoot?’

’No.  Some one in the same building; in another flat.  When I knocked at Mr. Barfoot’s door, I knew—­or I felt sure—­no one would answer.  I knew Mr. Barfoot was going away that day—­going into Cumberland.’

Rhoda’s look was fixed on the speaker’s countenance.

‘You knew he was going to Cumberland?’ she asked in a slow, careful voice.

‘He told me so.  I met him, quite by chance, the day before.’

‘Where did you meet him?’

‘Near the flats,’ Monica answered, colouring.  ’He had just come out—­I saw him come out.  I had an appointment there that afternoon, and I walked a short way with him, so that he shouldn’t—­’

Her voice failed.  She saw that Rhoda had begun to mistrust her, to think that she was elaborating falsehoods.  The burdensome silence was broken by Miss Nunn’s saying repellently,—­

‘I haven’t asked for your confidence, remember.’

’No—­and if you try to imagine what it means for me to be speaking like this—­I am not shameless.  I have suffered a great deal before I could bring myself to come here and tell you.  If you were more human—­if you tried to believe—­’

The agitation which found utterance in these words had its effect upon Rhoda.  In spite of herself she was touched by the note of womanly distress.

‘Why have you come?  Why do you tell me this?’

’Because it isn’t only that I have been falsely accused.  I felt I must tell you that Mr. Barfoot had never-that there was nothing between us.  What has he said?  How did he meet the charge Mr. Widdowson made against him?’

‘Simply by denying it.’

‘Hasn’t he wished to appeal to me?’

’I don’t know.  I haven’t heard of his expressing such a wish.  I can’t see that you are called upon to take any trouble about Mr. Barfoot.  He ought to be able to protect his own reputation.’

‘Has he done so?’ Monica asked eagerly.  ’Did you believe him when he denied—­’

‘But what does it matter whether I believed him or not?’

‘He would think it mattered a great deal.’

‘Mr. Barfoot would think so?  Why?’

’He told me how much he wished to have your good opinion That is what we used to talk about.  I don’t know why he took me into his confidence.  It happened first of all when we were going by train—­ the same train, by chance—­after we had both been calling here.  He asked me many questions about you, and at last said—­that he loved you—­or something that meant the same.’