It was Christopher Ulwing who broke the silence. He shouted angrily:
“You promised not to go to her while I was alive! Can’t I even trust your word?”
“But, sir, don’t forget the child is here!”
“She won’t understand,” retorted the builder sharply.
Anne understood the words quite clearly, but what she heard did not interest her. Her thoughts were otherwise engaged. She felt keenly that two hands opposed to each other were pressing her on either side and that some community of feeling had arisen between her father and herself. They both feared someone who was stronger than they.
“I went to meet you, sir,” grumbled John Hubert, “and met her by chance on the bridge.”
Christopher Ulwing stopped dead.
“Is that the truth?”
“I never told lies.” Young Ulwing’s voice was honest and sad. It sounded as if he laid great weight on what he said because it had cost him so dear.
The builder, still angry, drew out his snuff box. He tapped it sharply and opened it.