“And you remember nothing before that?”
“No! How should I?”
“Nothing whatever—no disturbance in the house; no—”
“Oh, yes! I remember very well how surprised mother seemed, and how she scolded about something. I suppose it was because father took the baby out.”
“Strange!” muttered Ross.
That moment Mrs. Laurence came into the room.
“You here, Mr. Ross?” she said, in her cold, half-indifferent fashion.
“Yes, madam. As an old friend of your husband’s, I have taken the liberty of coming often, hoping to benefit his child a little.”
Mrs. Laurence looked at him, keenly. She was naturally a suspicious woman, and intimate association with a person connected with the police had not improved her faith in human nature. She had seen this man regarding Eva with looks that troubled her, and naturally supposed that his extreme kindness to Ruth had some reference to the more beautiful daughter.
“Mr. Ross,” she said, with curt honesty, “I don’t remember my husband having a friend in the world that I didn’t know something about; but so far as I can remember, he never mentioned the name of Ross to me in his life.”