It was not difficult for him to
wipe away the worst of McDowell's suspicions regarding Miss Kirkstone,
for McDowell was eager to believe. When Keith told him that Miriam was
on the verge of a nervous breakdown simply because of certain trouble
into which Shan Tung had inveigled her brother, and that everything
would be straightened out the moment Shan Tung returned from Winnipeg,
the iron man seized his hands in a sudden burst of relief and gratitude.
"But why didn't she confide in me, Conniston?" he complained. "Why
didn't she confide in me?" The anxiety in his voice, its note of
disappointment, were almost boyish.
Keith was prepared. "Because--"
He hesitated, as if projecting the thing in his mind. "McDowell, I'm in
a delicate position. You must understand without forcing me to say too
much. You are the last man in the world Miss Kirkstone wants to know
about her trouble until she has triumphed, and it is over. Delicacy,
perhaps; a woman's desire to keep something she is ashamed of from the
one man she looks up to above all other men--to keep it away from him
until she has cleared herself so that there is no suspicion. McDowell,
if I were you, I'd be proud of her for that.
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