“Didn’t he offer to give Zyp something in exchange for a kiss that night we watched them out of the window?”
“Go on.”
“It was gold. I saw it. He must have found his way to the store and stolen it. Mayn’t it be, now, that dad discovered he had been robbed, and took the surest way to prevent it happening again?”
“No—a thousand times!” I spoke stanchly, but my heart felt sick within me.
He was silent.
“So,” I said, in a high-strung voice, “this was your manner of business during my absence; that the way to the means that helped you up to London? A miserable discovery for you—for I gather from your words you, too, found out about the hiding-place. You had better have left it alone—a million times you had better.”
Still he was silent.
“Did Zyp know, too?”
“No—not from my telling. I can’t answer for what she may have found out for herself. She sees in the dark.”
“How much did you have, from first to last? But I suppose you helped yourself whenever you needed it?”