"Dermot's not the fellow to talk
about women. He's never mentioned you."
"But how do you know that Mrs. Rice said such a thing? Did she tell you?"
"No; she knows that I am your friend, and I daresay she was afraid to tell
me such a lie. But she told others."
He turned in his chair and called to a young fellow standing near the bar
of the club.
"I say, Travers, do you mind coming here a moment? Pull up a chair and sit
down."
Travers was a straight, clean-minded boy, one of those of their community
whom Noreen liked best, and she had felt hurt at his marked avoidance of
her all the afternoon.
"Look here, youngster," said Payne in a low voice, "did Mrs. Rice tell you
that Miss Daleham was engaged to Chunerbutty?"
Travers looked at him in surprise.
"Yes. I told you so the other day. She said that Miss Daleham had confided
to her that they were engaged, but wanted it kept secret for a time until
he could get another job."
"Then, my boy, you'll be pleased to hear it's a damned lie," said Payne
impressively. "Miss Daleham would never marry a black man."
The boy's face lit up.
"I am glad!" he cried impulsively. "I'm very, very sorry, Miss Daleham, for
helping to spread the lie. But I only told Payne. I knew he was a friend of
yours, and I hoped he'd be able to contradict the yarn. For I felt very
sick about it.
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