Ireton and Langley had returned from a second unsuccessful search; Marvel had come thither to bid good-night to Mrs. For a few minutes all was silent. " "What right have you to suppose this, Sir?" demanded Trenchard, sternly. He looked at his friend. After a while one began to talk. “Curious case—and sets one thinking. “Annabel,” she said, “you are my sister, or I would bid you take the flowers if you care for them, and leave the room. Fortescue rambled round the garden with soft, propitiatory steps, the Corinthian nose upraised and his hands behind his back, pausing to look long and hard at the fruit-trees against the wall. Tell me all that happened, one sister-woman to another. In the hall below she could hear his firm voice giving quick commands to the servants. You’ll be telling me Gerald did not catch you snooping at the Bicknacres, I suppose.
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