‘Oh mother, mother! My Robinson had no beard!’ Her mother stroked her face comfortingly as she answered:
‘But, my dear, it is more than two years since you saw him. Two years and three months, for it was in June that we crossed.’ How the date thrilled Stephen. It verified her assumption.
Mrs. Stonehouse did not notice, but went on:
‘His beard would have grown. Men wear beards up in the cold place where he was.’ Pearl kissed her; there was no need for words. Throwing herself again on Stephen’s knees she went on with her questioning:
‘But didn’t you hear him?’
‘I heard very little, darling. He was very weak. It was only the morning after the wreck, and he spoke in a whisper!’ Then with an instinct of self-preservation she added: ‘But how could I learn anything by hearing him when he was a stranger to me? I had never even heard of Mr. Robinson!’
As she was speaking she found her own ideas, the proofs of her own conviction growing. This was surely another link in the chain of proving that all three men were but one. But in such case Harold must know; must have tried to hide his identity!
She feared, with keen eyes upon her, to pursue the thought. But her blood began to grow cold and her brain to swim. With an effort she went on:
‘Even since then I have not been allowed to go near him. Of course I must obey orders. I am waiting as patiently as I can. But we must ask the Doctor if he thinks his patient will see you—will let you see him—though he will not let me.’ This she added with a touch of what she felt: regret rather than bitter ness. There was no room for bitterness in her full heart where Harold was concerned.
‘Will you ask the Doctor now?’ Pearl did not let grass grow under her feet. For answer Stephen rang the bell, and when a servant appeared asked: