“Viola!” he pleaded. “Please listen—”
“I mean it!” she said, sternly. “Go! I never want to see you again! Oh, to do such a thing!”
The captain, nonplussed for a moment, lingered, as though to appeal from the decision. Then, without a word, he turned sharply on his heel and left the room.
Viola sank on a sofa, and gave way to her emotion.
“It can't be true! It can't!” she sobbed. “I won't believe it. It must not be true! Oh, how can I prove otherwise? But I will! I must! Harry never did that horrible thing, and I will prove it!
“Why should Captain Poland try to throw suspicion on him? It isn't right. He had no need to tell the detective that! I must see Colonel Ashley at once and tell him what I think. Oh, Captain Poland, if I—”
Viola twisted in her slender hands a sofa cushion, and then threw it violently from her.
“I'll see Colonel Ashley at once!” she decided.
Inquiry of a maid disclosed the fact that the colonel was still fishing, and from Patrick, the gardener, she learned that he had gone to try his luck at a spot in the river at the end of the golf course where Patrick himself had hooked more than one fish.
“I'll follow him there,” said Viola. “I suppose he won't want to be interrupted while he's fishing, but I can't help it! I must talk to some one—tell somebody what I think.”