Wyn coloured up and answered shyly, “We don’t ever talk about him.”
“No more do we. Why,” said Florence, staring at him with her great round eyes, “where is he?”
“I don’t know,” said Wyn.
“Who does?”
“Maybe the master do.”
“Mr Cunningham? What did Harry do?”
“Well, Florrie, so far as I know—only I don’t think mother knows I know it—he ran away with poor Mr Alwyn.”
“Ran away? What for?”
“Well, they was up at Ravenshurst having a lark—which they oughtn’t to have had anything to do with—and the lady’s jewels were all stolen at the same time. So folks say Harry did it—but whether Mr Alwyn knew—they never came back again.”
“Why should they put it on Harry?”