"Let us talk," he suggested, "after breakfast. Give me back that telegram now, and I will explain it, say, in the garden in half an hour. I detest cold coffee."
"You can do like me, order some fresh," she said. "If I let you out of my sight I know very well how much I shall see of you for the rest of the day. Explain now if you can. What does that telegram mean?"
"Surely it is obvious enough," he answered. "The man Parkins, whom you told me was dead, is alive and in Leeds. He has seen Mannering's name about, has been talking, and the press have got hold of his story. I am sorry, but there was always this possibility, wasn't there?"
"And this telegram?" she asked.
"I know Polden, the editor of the paper, and he referred to me to know if there could be any truth in it."
"These are lies!" she declared. "You were the instigator. You set them on the track."
"I have nothing more to say," Borrowdean declared, coldly.
"I have," she said. "I shall take this telegram to Lord Redford. I shall tell him everything!"
A faint smile flickered upon Borrowdean's lips.
"Lord Redford would, I am sure, be charmed to hear your story," he remarked. "Unfortunately he started for Dieppe this morning before eight o'clock, and will not be back until to-morrow."