She nodded. “I’m not a married woman. I once thought I was, but I wasn’t. That’s all.”
“But—”
“But what?”
“You—you said six or seven years, didn’t you? Surely they don’t give that long for bigamy?”
“Oh!” she replied mildly. “That was for something else. When he came out of prison the first time they arrested him again instantly—so I was told. It was in Scotland.”
“I see.”
There was a rattle as of hailstones on the window. They both started.
“That must be Charlie!” she exclaimed, suddenly loosing her excitement under this pretext. “He doesn’t want to ring and wake the house.”
Edwin ran out of the room, sliding and slipping down the deserted stairs that waited patiently through the night for human feet.
“Forgot to take a key,” said Charlie, appearing, breathless, just as the door opened. “I meant to take the big key, and then I forgot.” He had a little round box in his hand. He mounted the stairs two and three at a time.