"Gave it to the Little Pilgrim," said Crow.
"What did she say?"
"Nothing."
"Didn't she say one word? Didn't she know anything?" persisted poor Pam, disappointed.
"She looked at the initial, and I don't think she was surprised. I don't know why, but my feeling said she wasn't surprised. I told her about the brooch and--and a few things I'd noticed," went on Crow, turning a little pink under her sister's anxious gaze. "She nodded, and listened--that was all; but one felt she'd do something--quietly, without fuss! I don't know why one should always expect her to, but one does."
Pamela was thinking: "She'll help. She knows----"
Her face cleared a little.
"Pam," began Christobel with a sudden impulse to get nearer this isolated little sister, "I don't like asking if you don't--I mean if you've something private. But do you mind telling me if you went on the yawl that Tuesday night--before our sail?"
Pamela looked startled, hesitated a moment, and then said:
"No--I was never out of bed."