"Then—I have no choice. I must look upon the child I love, as a miserable thief."
"O no," shrieked Lettice, resolution failing as he turned away.
"You deny it!"
She wrung her hands over her face, in the struggle not to answer. Dr. Bryant walked up and down the room twice with heavy steps.
"No choice seems left to me," he said at length, pausing by her. "Listen! Since you cannot deny the theft, nothing remains but free confession. Tell me how you came to do it—and what you have done with the money. If you are sorry, say so. I may at least forgive. The relations between us cannot be what they have been, if you are capable of such a deed—still, I can believe that there has been some peculiar temptation. Only you must tell me all."
The Doctor was surprised afresh. As he spoke, Lettice threw up her head, and the honest eyes, dimmed with tears, looked full into his with a glance of indignant reproach.
"But I—" she exclaimed.
And though she stopped, the Doctor knew as distinctly as if she had finished, that she had all but said—"I did not do it."
"Go on."
A negative movement of the head answered him.