"My dear boy," said Edna, in that patronizing tone that people use as if their ability to conceal something from a child were a tremendous proof of their own superiority. "I'm afraid it will be a great shock to you, but you must face the fact that she did steal my pearls—at least so we believe; and that she is not Miss Exeter at all—she is a notorious English jewel thief known by the agreeable sobriquet of Golden Moll."
"You don't know that, Edna," said her brother quickly.
"I should say not!" cried Durland. "Mother, I think it's perfectly rotten of you to think it's even possible."
Edna turned to her brother.
"You see, Anthony," she said, "what you've done to me, introducing this woman into my house—turning my own children against me."
Cora smiled at the boy soothingly.
"But Durland doesn't know that we have proof that she took the pearls," she said, as one calmly able to make all smooth and easy.
"No, Durland," said his mother, "I have not been able to tell you—the detectives would not let me until your uncle got back—that we have proof. Miss Exeter is not Miss Exeter at all—just an imposter. Oh, tell him, Anthony—tell him that she's—a common, everyday thief."
"I can't do that," said Wood, "because I don't think so."
"You mean," said his sister, as if now, indeed, a chasm had opened at her very feet, "that you have any doubt that she stole the pearls?"