He drew back in hurt surprise: “What do you mean, Marjy? Do you think that I would take your aunt’s money?” he asked indignantly.
Marjy burst into tears: “Auntie—Auntie—” she stammered, and there she stopped, unable to proceed.
He finished the sentence for her; “Thinks me a thief,” he said grimly.
She hung her head and sobbed: “You—you are the only person—beside auntie and me, who knew the combination, you know!” she paused, then continued desperately, “You remember that you boasted that you could repeat it a week from that day——”
“I should think so! I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind for one minute since; but what has that to do with your aunt’s money?”
“No other person knew anything about it,” she said naïvely.
“That explains your strange look when you hid the paper; you suspected that I would steal the money.”
“Oh, Henry! I had no thought of such a thing!”
“Perhaps not, but you looked it!” he replied hotly.
She drew herself up angrily: “I tell you that there was no such thought in my mind; it must have had birth in your own consciousness; you remember the old adage about ‘fleeing when no man pursueth.’” She tossed her pretty head high in the air, and walked into the sitting room; he followed sullenly behind.