had seen contempt come to Mr. Stanway; he had not had it before; though he had arrived, undoubtedly, with full knowledge of her father's sin, still he had arrived with fear of her father.
So, in another respect, the astounding statements of Rinderfeld—which rang through her head—were proving correct. It appeared that a man could do as her father had done and his associates become aware of it without that fact's destroying him; without, indeed, its earning him even their contempt. But for his women to condone it, ah, that was a different matter! And after that downstairs door was closed, and that motor of the town car started, Marjorie would have thrust herself up from her bed, if it would have done any good, and cried out that she had lied; she had falsified and dishonored her mother. It was only herself who knew and who made no move; she would proclaim that her mother—if she knew—would act openly, relentlessly and with utter disregard of all other consequences.
If her mother had returned home just then, almost certainly she would have learned from Marjorie; but she did not come until after six o'clock and before that hour, arrived Billy.
